Those Who Wander
by curiousfan
Summary: Traveler's. Some live for the sake of the journey. Other's push forward because they have not yet found home. Will the Biker Mice be a good compass?
1. Chapter 1

_Disclamier: I have never, nor do I currently own the Biker Mice From Mars. Pity._

**Those Who Wander**

Three Martian mice and a comparatively small human stood at the very edge of Chicago's famed Quigley Field. Not in anticipation of a soon to be played game, as one, it was night, and two, the Nubs had an unbroken record of glorious losses as it was. No this was an anticipation born of a certain aging freedom fighter, a seasoned veteran who had trained these mice into adulthood and had called them just three nights previous, asking, in his own self-assured way, to help him return a favor.

His former apprentices, now hero's in their own right, had been more than willing to lend a hand. Especially since a good fight was sure to be on the menu.

The call from Mars had come as a surprise, and a welcome one when compared to the third rate movie they had been watching at the time. Stoker had been his usual cocky self, flirtatious with Charley, but the bikers had not spent so much time in his company not to know something was up even as he joked.

So here they were. Standing on the dry grass covering the field below their scoreboard home at midnight, bikes to their left, a freezing mechanic to their right, waiting for their old mentor and his new friend to descend from the clear sky above. Only Charley seemed to be anxious about the potential of a Martian spacecraft crashing yet again into Quigley's target of a scoreboard.

"So what was this guy's name again?" she asked, hopping up and down against the cold, hands cupped to her mouth.

"Uh, Creet, Clout..." Vinnie struggled, eyes plastered to the sky.

"Creed." Throttle and Modo corrected.

"Whoever he is, he's got a lot of guts flying around with one of you guys." The mice stared at her.

"Oh, come on, even you guys have to admit, Freedom Fighters don't exactly have the best reputation when it comes to landings around here. I just hope they don't ruin the ship. Another set of mouths to feed is the last thing I need."

Throttle let out a soft chuckle, and with it a light puff of white air into the cold night. "I suppose fair's fair Charley-girl. But in this case, I don't think Chi-town's gonna get another fireworks show. From what Stoker said, they guy hasn't even been on Mars since before the war. Besides, it's his ship, and I doubt he'll let anyone else behind the wheel."

"Let's hope not. So if he hasn't been on Mars then how did Stoker meet up with him, much less owe the guy a favor?"

"Kids' a medic or something, patched up Stoker a few weeks back after that run in with the Plutarkian's. Talk about lucky breaks, the guy was tracking down his own set of stink fish and ran across the rattling piece of metal coach likes to call a ship."

"Thing's fast as a snail uphill and has more problems then we've given ol' lard butt." Modo put in.

"At any rate, he stayed long enough to patch up Stoker, then lit on out of there before they caught each others names. Then, a few days ago, contacts Martian FF, asking for the 'aging, foul-mouthed degenerate' who piloted a rust bucket named the Red Lady. Not like Carbine couldn't figure that one out in three seconds flat."

"And Mr. Medic was in a hurry because...?" Charley continued to prompt, annoyed still with her friends for not including her in the conversation they had with Stoker three nights ago.

It wasn't that they were trying to exclude her. Well, yes, maybe they were, but in a 'we care about you and don't want you to get involved and therefore hurt' sort of way that made her want to simultaneously hug and kick their tails respectively.

In the end she was forced to resort to common blackmail, swearing to make them fix their own bikes for the next six months before they finally relented. Of course, they didn't give in until she had promised not to try and 'get in' on the fighting, and even then the information they volunteered had been sketchy at best. She had a sneaking suspicion they had waited until tonight to tell her anything of value so she wouldn't have the time to formulate a plan to join them. Hence, her bike was back at the garage, along with her biker babe riding suit. Damn them.

"it's what I'd...Charley-ma'am, Charley-ma'am?" Modo repeated, looking over to his friend.

Charley mentally slapped herself. "Sorry Modo, lost in thought. You were saying?"

"Ah, only tha' if it were my sis' taken by them fish face, I'd be haulin' tail so fast they wouldn't know what hit 'em."

"I'm sorry, but 'sis'? When did a 'sis' come into the equation?" She asked.

"Geez Charley-girl, you bug us all day and now your all space cadet. What gives?" Vinnie complained.

"Will you guys give me a break and answer the question." She retorted, looking to Throttle for help. Reluctantly, he complied.

"The word is they took his sister six weeks ago during an relief trip to the refugee colonies on Alston Six. Wish I knew the guy's information source, because somehow he got word what ship she was put on and it's schedule t' boot. Not exactly easy. The Stench Carrier's doing some kind of planetary tour or the like, and it just happens to be passing by Earth tonight with a limited shield transference." He explained, taking a more comfortable seat on his bike, noticing how his human friend's brows furrowed in confusion.

"Shield transference?"

"Stench Carrier's usually house the higher ups, so they have tighter security. Their ship's shields block incoming transporter access, unless their orbiting a planet. Something about magnetic fields. Anyway, it's why they tend to stick to deep space. Wonder what's up with this trip of their's. Not exactly routine." he mused.

"Yeah, high rankers usually need a damn good reason to risk their scaly hides out in this big bad universe." Vinnie added. Modo nodded his agreement as he searched the sky.

Still empty.

"You know guys," Charley began cautiously, "if your going after a little girl it might be a good idea to have me along. She may not take to you rough and tumble bikers."

Throttle shook his head. "But I'm sure she'd take to her brother just fine. Nice try Charley-girl, but Stench Carrier's are dangerous places, and too many things can go wrong in them."

"But..."

"Besides," he continued, "this is probably more of a run to ease the kid's conscious than anything else."

That took the mechanic by surprise. "What do you mean?"

"Plutarkians ain't exactly famous for keepin' prisoner's alive Charley-ma'am" Modo explained softly.

"Coach survived his stint in the labor camps on the merit that he had caused so much trouble for the stink fish, they wanted him to pay for it. Plutarkians keep labor camps for one purpose, and that's to cause pain for the prisoners. They certainly don't need the labor force. A young girl would would be no use to them. She wouldn't stand a chance. Best case scenario they sold her to traders on their way here. If that's the case, he'll probably never find her."

Charley stared incredulously. "So what your saying is your going up there just so this Creed can say his goodbyes?"

"That's pretty much the long and short of it Charley-girl." Throttle answered. Charley didn't miss how he averted his gaze, nor the change in his voice.

She was in the beginning of a retort, but bit her tongue. Tendencies to be fun loving and even childish at times overshadowed the reality of what her friends were behind it all. They were war veterans, with all the pain and scars war often brings.

Occasionally, like the time with Hard Rock, their past would come crashing to the surface, and for a moment she would see just how deep the scars within them ran. Considering this, she supposed she could understand their desire to help one of their own achieve a kind of closure. After all, she wasn't entirely sure they had had the same chance. She let out a deep sigh.

"You guys really are something else."

They all turned and grinned at her in clear agreement.

Modo cleared his throat.

"Whether the little lady is up there or not, their cuttin' it close, don't ya think? We're gonna have t' fly like bat's outta hell once they get 'ere, and Limburger ain't exactly famous for bringing out the welcomin' committee." he declared, shifting on his feet.

"At least not the friendly kind. But say no more Modo, cause speaking of flying, here they come!" Vinnie shouted, pointing to the white lights heading toward the worn baseball field.

The ship descended at a rate that alarmed Charley, and she noticed with a little twinge of satisfaction that even the guys' looked a little nervous at the sudden approach. Contrary to her earlier misgivings however, it did not make any moves towards the much abused scoreboard, landing instead in the middle of Quigley field with a rush of cold, ripping wind.

The exit ramp deployed almost immediately upon touchdown, and soon two figures, both standing on either side of a trademark FF cycle, cast tall shadows in the resulting light of the ship's interior. The mice and Charley watched as they descended the ramp.

"Damn kid, your going to give this old soldier a heart attack flying like that. Won't be any use to you if I'm dead." It was a voice more than familiar to the biker mice, like slipping into an old comfortable shoe. Stoker's face came into focus, his hair lighter than it had been the last time they had seen him, but his features losing none of their subtle authority.

"All talk and no substance? I'm disappointed Mr. Stoker." The second voice contrasted with the first, unfamiliar and with a touch of arrogance. The taller mouse beside their coach looked amused, the lean frame beneath his long black coat making him look even taller than his was, which Charley guessed was about Throttle's height.

"Get off your high horse junior, with the way you fly, I'm beginning to think staying on Mars full time ain't such a half-assed idea after all..."

"I'm sure General Carbine will be just thrilled to hear it sir." came a third voice. Modo's heart gave a lurch.

"Rimfire boy, that you I hear?"

"Uncle Modo!" The shorter mouse abandoned his own cycle and came sprinting down the ramp past the other two, launching himself at Modo and playfully tackling him to the ground.

"The kid just shows up everywhere with you doesn't he Stoke?" Throttle chuckled, punching Stoker lightly in the gut. Stoker grinned and reciprocated the gesture, moved onto Vinnie, and was soon in a wrestling match with all four of his 'kid's'.

Charley shook her head in bemusement and skirted around the flaying bunch to the dark gray mouse who stood watching the scene in confusion.

"They always greet each other this way." She explained, holding out her hand. "I'm Charley."

He glanced over, and for a brief second she felt him study her, before he took her hand in a surprisingly gently grip. "Creed." he said simply, before turning back to the group, who looked as though they were beginning to finish up their hello's.

He none to subtly cleared his throat. "Excuse me."

Throttle picked himself off the ground and dusted himself off as the others disentangled themselves from the mess they had become. "Sorry about that. Sorta a ritual for us. Names' Throttle." He offered his hand.

Creed shook it quickly. "Yes. And your Vinnie, Modo, and Charley. Stoker and Rimfire filled me in on the way here." he said, nodding to each, before turning to Stoker. "We're wasting time. The Carrier will be moving out of range soon."

The others stared after him.

"Would it kill him to say 'hi, I'm Creed, thanks for helping me out'?" Vinnie demanded, staring down the gray mouse's back as he moved towards Stoker's bike, placing a worn duffel bag on the seat before swinging his leg over the back.

Stoker looked to the others and shrugged. "Kid's preoccupied. So, you boy's ready to go or not?"

"Did you doubt?" Throttle quipped as he mounted his bike, his bro's not far behind. "What do you say guys? Let's Rock..."

"And Ride!"

They left in the dust a rather disgruntled Charley, whose memory of the dark gray mouses' incredulous expression as the group pulled away was eventually going to put at least one smile on her face for the evening. Something told her she wasn't the only odd duck in the group tonight.

Speaking of.

She shook her head ruefully. "Looks like I get clean up, yet again." she thought, heading back up to the scoreboard where a table full of medical supplies stood patiently waiting.

_Reviews most welcome._


	2. Chapter 2

**Those Who Wander**

_Disclaimer: I do not, nor have I ever owned the Biker Mice from Mars. More's the pity._

_To 999999999: Thank you for your encouragement, kind soul. I will do my best to get chapters out._

Towering high above many of the already massive structures Chicago had to offer, stood the ever-crumbling, yet still in existence Limburger tower. How it continued to crumble and be rebuilt was a mystery to all but a select few of the city's inhabitants, and the lone figure staring from one of it's topmost windows was feeling uncharacteristically grateful that this week was one of the few his beloved tower was proudly standing.

Perhaps not for long, but standing nonetheless.

The Lord Vice-Chairman of the Plutarkian council may not be actually setting foot in his unpredictable fortress, but it was nice to know he could at least offer his Lordship a grand tour if he wished it.

"Not likely the royal pain would ever permit one of his precious prints to grace my promenade." Limburger muttered to himself, tugging for the tenth time at the collar of his highly uncomfortable formal Plutarkian dining robes. Why couldn't the rest of his species figure out the utility of a three piece suit?

Distractedly, he made his way to his desk, pounding the button on top in frustration.

"Doctor Karbunkle!"

A familiar wheezing voice came over the speaker.

"Yes, your most excellent cheesyness?"

"Tell me our blue blooded visitor is somewhere in this planets vicinity." he demanded, reaching for his collar once more.

"As a matter of fact, your over-ripeness, they are entering Earth's orbit as we speak. We should be receiving notification of their exact coordinates soon."

"Excellent. The sooner this ridiculous formality is over with the better. I have more productive things to do with my time than simper over some spoiled, overindulged..."

"Good Evening Limburger." The voice practically dripped sarcasm, and the green triple chinned creature that appeared on the monitor looked anything but happy.

Limburger cut off his rant immediately, reacting like the coward he was and presenting his purple robed hindquarters to the large screen beside his desk.

"Your Lordship, what an extreme honor to have someone such as yourself contacting a humble worker in the field like me. May I offer you the traditional Plutarkian greeting as a token of my esteem?"

The creature on the screen made a small sound of disgust.

"No, that will not be necessary Limburger. Those of the royal houses only exchange such greetings with those of shall we say, equal linage?"

Limburger hastily apologized.

"Yes, yes." the Lord Vice-Chairman waved aside the words as though they were annoying insets. "Now, I take it you are prepared for tonights function?"

"Yes your exhaulted Lordship, I have thought of nothing else for the past week, I assure you. But, if I might inquire as to the cause for this sudden celebration?" Limburger asked, putting as much deference into his voice as possible.

The Vice-Chairman's beady eyes narrowed. "That is not information lower-downs such as yourselves are privileged to ahead of time Limburger. Count yourselves and your pathetic little planet lucky to be receiving a visit from the council at all. Now, join Brie up here immediately. I am told the ship will be in transference range for only another five minutes."

Limburger gulped. "Brie will be joining us?"

"Now Limburger!"

"Anyone else get the feelin' Limburger's goon's hearts ain't really into it tonight?"

Stoker grinned. Vinnie's voice sounded as though he was on the verge of disappointment. Knowing the character of the mouse, the thought was most likely not far off the mark. Truth be told, if he had been riding single, his mind would have been going down the same track. Tonight though, with Creed dodging laser fire behind him, he was almost grateful the tower's defenses were slack. He was coming to appriciate the fact he was not as young, nor foolhardy, as he once had been.

Throttle fired a shot that sent five of the goons running as the metal awning above them gave way, crashing to the asphalt a good twenty feet below. Modo and Rimfire had teamed up, each holding an end of a metal beam that had been dislodged during the short fight, and rammed full speed into a couple of dune buggies, destroying the vehicles and sending their occupants flying. No doubt an extended hospital stay would be in their future.

Vinnie on the other hand, had apparently decided to take out his frustration by barreling full speed into the fifteen or so remaining goons who were haphazardly guarding the tower's main entrance. Seeing he was not about to stop, they sent a few token shot's his way then scattered. Leaving an annoyed Vinnie to utterly destroy the expensive front lobby.

"Yo! Rookie! Would ya mind not collapsing the place while were in it?" Stoker yelled as he and his passenger blasted a chunk of flying concrete.

The white Martian came to a stop, albeit reluctantly, as Throttle coasted over and scooped up a piece of broken fountain.

"With how many times we've destroyed this place, you'd think stink fish would know to stop _decorating_ it." he mused, tossing it aside.

"With how many times we've taken the tower down, ya'd think he'd just _leave_," Modo countered. "But he don't. Prudence ain't exactly a quality any of the stink fish got."

From behind their coach, Creed removed his helmet and took a quick glance at the small, palm-sized computer in his left hand. His eyes narrowed as he replaced the helmet.

"We have to be moving. Now. The shield transference has little more than two minutes before it's down." He looked over to Throttle. "I'm assuming you know the location of the transporter in this building?"

Behind Throttle, Vinnie rolled his eyes to the heavens, but his leader merely nodded and motioned to the others. "Let's roll guys!"

Deep in his windowless lab, Karbunkle stood nervously holding a laser pistol much to large for his small frame, aiming it at the seemingly impenetrable bay doors leading out into the rest of the building. Silently he cursed himself for not being more prepared for an attack, especially since he had had more than a weeks time of relative peace from those meddling mice to prepare. He should have known those idiots down below would slack off the moment Limburger was off planet, if they were there at all.

Most likely they were down at the closest bar now, all drinking themselves into a drunken stupor. Soon they would be as worthless as Fred, who was currently being an excellent help by chewing on a nearby electrical cord.

A series of explosions that rocked the lab told the scientist those repulsive rodents were disturbingly close. He looked doubtfully at the weapon in his hand. It looked a lot smaller than it had before. Another set of explosions and the bay doors shattered into a dozen pieces, and in rode six mice on five motorcycles. All of them were armed. Some more than others.

Who was he kidding?

"I surrender!" He cried, throwing the weapon to the ground.

"Awwww! Come on! You too? God, what is it with you people today?" Vinnie whined, slumping over his handlebars in defeat.

Stoker was barely coming to a stop when Creed vaulted from behind him, taking quick strides to the small, slightly trembling doctor in the center of the room. Taking a fistful of lab coat, he pulled the small man up to meet his eyes.

"Look, I have no interest in who you are or what your past is with them." he motioned to the group behind him, who looked possibly as confused as the doctor in his grip. "All I care about is getting onto the Stench Carrier currently in orbit of this planet."

"I...I don't know what your..."

The dark mouse pulled him a little closer and readjusted his grip, making the collar of his lab coat dig painfully into his throat. "Yes, you do. And you are going to send us there in the next sixty seconds." The sides of his mouth twitched to either side, giving Karbunkle a rather disturbed smile. "I'm a doctor too sir, I can make life extremely painful for you."

Karbunkle tried to swallow beneath the choke of his collar. He pointed to the transporter control panel to his right. "Six-five-three-seven dot three-two." he wheezed.

The mouse's expression softened, and he almost gently put the small scientist back on his feet.

"Thank you."

Rimfire was already entering the coordinates into the transporter as Creed returned to his familiar perch behind Stoker. To the duo's left, Throttle let out a small chuckle.

"Not the way I would have done it, but hey, I guess it worked."

Vinnie had other thoughts. He leaned over to Modo.

"Anyone else get the impression this guy's not entirely stable?" he asked.

Modo shrugged, then eyed the small man who was trying to fade into the shadows of his lab. "An' just t' make sure ya' don't go anywhere while we're gone," he said, punching a small button on his bike, "here's a present for ya doc."

A net flew out from the front of the bike, capturing the fleeing man in an instant, knocking him to the ground. To their left, the transporter began flaring up a bright yellow. Rimfire hopped onto his bike, joining the others.

"Anytime your ready everyone! This should take us right up to those stink fish."

One by one they sped into the glowing light of the transporter, pistol's drawn, and more than one of them itching for a good fight on the other end.

_Reviews most welcome._


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: I do not, nor have I ever owned the Biker Mice From Mars. Sadness abounds._

_999999999: Thanks for your input and for following my story so far. A little more action in this chapter, although I didn't expect it to be so long :). Hope you like._

_silverphyrbyrd: Greetings. You like Creed? Thanks! He's fun to write, and I'm hoping to add a bit more to him in later chapters. I'd appritiate any insight you have._

* * *

Disappointment. If anyone asked, it was how Vinnie was going to describe this night. Not only did Limburger's goons put up a less than halfhearted fight, his lackey Karbunkle caved in altogether, not even offering them a token resistance. To top off the evening, now that they were on board the Stench Carrier itself, in the heart of enemy territory, all they got was an empty cargo hold and not one measly guard to stand watch. Didn't Earth have t-shirts describing this sort of situation?

Lowering his weapon, he watched as Modo, the last of them through the transporter, emerged in a flash of light from the ships' own device.

"Big surprise guys, there's no one here. Anyone else noticin' a theme? As in, I'm Bored!" he ranted, pushing off his bike and kicking a nearby wall angrily. He watched as the newcomer Creed ignored him and quickly made his way to the rooms' lone computer, at which Rimfire was already working.

In fact, ignoring him was what all of his bro's seemed to be doing at the moment, including Stoker. He stalked back to the group, his bike following faithfully behind.

"Come on bro's. We're on the Stench Carrier, the ship of the big wigs themselves! Don't tell me we're not gonna introduce ourselves." he said, bringing himself to a stop in front of them as they watched Rimfire attempt to break the ships security codes.

Stoker shook his head. "Sorry Rookie. But if we're not running into a fight, we're not going to go looking for one. This is a rescue mission, remember?"

Vinnie stood dumbfounded for a moment. Not. Looking. For. A. Fight. He mulled the words over in his mind a few times, trying to understand why they had come from his mentor's mouth. Since when had that been their mode of operation?

"Not fight?! What's wrong with you all?" he yelled.

Throttle glanced at the bay doors, his arms folded across his chest. "This is a rescue mission, remember Vinnie?" he said quietly.

"What rescue mission? You said it yourself Throttle, the girl's probably dea.."

Throttle's right hand clamped over his mouth and the left grabbed his bandanna. "Not now Vincent." The voice was soft, but it carried a heavy weight within it. Vinnie glanced over at Creed, who was studying the screen intently, offering suggestions on possible bypass options to Rimfire.

The guy looked, well, hopeful.

He took Throttle's hand from his mouth. "Got it." he said simply, and sat on his bike.

Back at the computer, Rimfire punched in another series of commands, attempting to override the system. Creed's suggestions had been good ones, but entirely ineffective on this setup. But that was okay. He enjoyed a challenge now and then. On the screen, the computer coughed up another string of words in Plutarkian, and Rimfire resisted the urge to flip it off. One, it wouldn't help the situation, and two, his Uncle slightly suffered from the delusion that he was still twelve years old. He didn't want to have his ears cuffed at the moment.

On that note, a thought occurred to him, and he hurriedly typed in another set of commands.

"We're in." he said simply, smiling to himself. You just had to know how to talk to 'em.

To his left, Creed moved in a little closer and studied the screen.

"Impressive." he murmured.

Stoker and the others moved in closer, the eldest slapping Rimfire's shoulder. "Not bad kid. Now see if you can find the detention logs. If she's here that's where..."

"No."

All eyes turned to the dark mouse.

Creed ignored them and pointed to a small engineering icon at the bottom left of the screen. "There. Use that to find the strongest power source on the ship. That's where she'll be."

The biker mice exchanged glances. Vinnie made a crazy motion with his hand, but it was Stoker who spoke up first.

"Uh, junior, you sure you don't want to at least check the detention logs?" he asked. Creed hadn't volunteered a whole lot of information regarding his sister on the flight over, but Stoker was reasonably sure she wasn't a machine.

Rimfire on the other hand, was already working on Creed's request. The sooner he proved to the guy this ship, besides being massively foul, was just like any other...wait a minute.

"What the hell?" he exclaimed.

As attention getter's go, it was a fairly good one. Everyone crowded the screen. There was silence for a moment.

"What?" Vinnie asked, staring at the fluctuating bars on the screen.

Rimfire pointed to one in particular.

"Here." he said, as the bar spiked over and over, retreating each time to it's previous position, yet it was still far ahead of any of the others on the screen. "This section of the ship, it's producing incredible amounts of raw power."

Stoker's brow furrowed.

"Engines on these rigs need to be pretty powerful kid..."

Rimfire shook his head. "No, look. _That's_ the engine."

Throttle studied the smaller bar. His Plutarkian was a little rusty, but there was no mistaking the small icon to it's left. But the one above it. The one without an icon. Rimfire was right. He studied the fluctuating bar. It reminded him of something. Something he couldn't quite place.

No one but Modo had noticed how their newfound companion's hands gripped the sides of the small outcropping below the computer. He watched as the knuckles beneath the dark fur went white. Reaching up he squeezed the mouse's tense shoulder. An action that seemed to shake him to his senses.

"That's her." The words were barely audible, but they all heard him.

Vinnie gave him an doubtful glance.

"That?" he asked, pointing to the screen.

"What have they been doing to you?" he asked quietly. But after a few moments, the indifferent mask he had dropped from his features returned and he turned to Rimfire once more.

"Where is this coming from?" he asked, pointing to the screen.

Rimfire threw him a confused look, but typed in the request anyway.

"Level 25, it looks like it's a sub-compartment to the engineering level above." he answered. Creed nodded.

"Find a way there."

Rimfire had no idea what this guy was planning, or what he was even talking about, but hey, at least it was a plan. He got to work.

"Engineering? What happened to the rescue mission?" Vinnie asked, by this point utterly at the end of his rope. He had been idle for what, ten minutes now? Just how patient did everyone expect him to be?

"I have a feeling this is the rescue mission Vinnie." said Throttle, with a look that said, 'I haven't figured this out yet, but give me time'.

"Got it." declared a triumphant Rimfire. "We can use the ships ventilation system. If we follow this path here," he followed the thin line with his finger, "it should take us from this area to the room on Level 25."

"Whoa, whoa. Ventilation system? No way. No way I'm leaving sweetheart here alone." Vinnie exclaimed, as his red bike gave a grateful beep.

"I'm going to have to side with Vinnie on this one. I'm not leaving my bike here. Not on a Stench Carrier." Throttle seconded, laying a protective hand on his bike's crankcase.

"You won't have to. The system's big enough. As long as we ride single file, we'll have plenty of room. Well, at least enough. The ventilation on this ship is...massive."

Stoker sniffed the air and grinned. "I wonder why?"

* * *

From opposite sides of the spacious main deck, Limburger and Brie eyed each other relentlessly as the Lord Vice-Chairman engaged in a rather tedious and lengthly speech on the many glorious attributes of the Plutarkian empire. What made it worse was that their host seemed to have no speech giving talents whatsoever. 

What Limburger had thought was going to be a boring formal dinner was turning into a boring formal lecture. Ten minutes now, and he still wasn't sure what the point of the Lord Vice Chairman's speech was, other than to assure him that Plutark was the bright shining star of hope in the universe. He glanced at the dinning table situated at the other end of the monumental room. Food was starting to sound very good right now. If only to slow the Vice-Chairman down a bit.

Reluctantly, he tuned back in to the Vice-Chairman. Summoning his courage, and pulling yet again on the collar of his robes, he spoke.

"Ah, pardon, your Lordship, but if I might venture a small, insignificant inquiry?"

The triple chinned monster look vaguely annoyed.

"What is it Limburger?"

"Forgive my ignorance, but I am still curious, to what do we owe the honor of your visit? The Plutarkian empire is indeed grand as you say, but planetary tours are uncommon, are they not? Surely there is an important reason for one such as yourself to venture this far, and with such an entourage."

He motioned to the dozen or so smaller fighting ships flanking the Stench Carrier. Odd that there would be such security surrounding the ship, but so far as he had seen, so little for the interior. Much of the ship's staff it seemed, those who were not crucial to the running of the ship, were now standing at attention to either side of the table.

"The security of council members are of utmost importance Limburger. As to your first question, it will be answered once the formalities are seen to and dinner is served. Now shut up and let me finish."

Limburger shut his mouth.

Turning back to the window, the Vice Chairman muttered something suspiciously akin to "ungrateful class-jumper" before launching into his speech once more.

Brie's eyes shined with glee.

* * *

Rimfire's initial plan when he suggested the ventilation system had been a quick, clean surprise attack on the occupants of the immense room they now counted themselves a part of. The execution of said attack, as led impromptu by Vinnie, once he had finally snapped from the uncharacteristic inaction of the evening, was not quite what he had in mind. 

Surprise? Yes.

Quick? Well...

Clean? No way.

The room was a chaotic mess. Which was exactly how the biker mice preferred it. If there had been any doubt as to whether the sparse laboratory was indeed their destination, it had been erased once they had been attacked by the small army of Plutarkian soldiers, not guards, the area had been boasting. Both inside and out.

Throttle and Vinnie paired up, and now were picking off soldiers by the handful. While Throttle seemed to be taking his time, blasting one with his pistol here, taking out a half dozen with his bike's extensive weapons system there, Vinnie was taking a vastly different approach.

"Whaa...Haaa!!! You have no idea how your making my day!" He cried, soaring over pale green heads and letting loose another barrage of laser fire as he and his bike twisted in mid-air, coming to a stop behind the group he had just fired on. Those who were left standing swung their weapons in his direction only to be greeted by the twin cannons of the red Martian bike.

"Night guys." He quipped as seven Plutarkians fell unconscious to the floor.

"Get the feeling he's enjoying this more than he should?" Rimfire commented, circling around his Uncle and letting loose a round of laser fire that sent a group of Plutarkians diving for the cover of a nearby terminal.

Modo grinned at his nephew as they both took aim at the walkway above, firing a few good shots, and sent it falling to floor, directly on top of the group giving them trouble.

"Nah. Let em cut loose for awhile. It'll guarantee us some sleep t'night."

Rimfire grinned, then ducked as yet more laser fire assailed them. Behind Modo and Rimfire, Stoker and Creed fired back, giving the two time to retreat to their comrades.

"Damn, these guys keep coming." Stoker shouted, nailing one Plutarkian on his right shoulder, pistol dropping from his useless hand.

"On the bright side, at least we know were in the right place." Throttle shouted back through their helmets as he gunned his bike and soared overhead, firing down on the soldiers as he joined his friends on the other side of the room. They had found cover beneath a large metal shelf that took up a good quarter of the laboratory's space. The metal walkway above them that surrounded the shelf was solid Plutarkian steel, and it made for good protection.

Throttle's well executed attack took out the remaining soldiers on their end, giving them time to see Vinnie across the room, driving back a half dozen stubborn Plutarkians with a laser pistol in each wild hand, his bike providing the extra and frankly unneeded firepower. The group retreated to the doorway and abruptly the metal doors shut tight.

Vinnie laughed.

"Yeah, go ahead, bring your friends, then we'll have a real party!"

Stoker and the others rode over, with the exception of Creed, and admired their handiwork. Most of the place was in ruins, smoke escaped in thin lines from various locations, and a few dozen Plutarkians lay unconscious at their wheels.

While they were busy slapping each other on the back, Creed made his way up to the steel walkway they had previously taken cover under. He ran his hand along the segmented plates of steel that curved upwards to the ceiling as he walked, noticing for the first time how it formed a sort of half-dome. Following the walkway, he found a small terminal nestled against the wall, just to the left hand side of the dome. His suspicions had been right. Taking another long look at the wall, he took a deep breath and turned his attention to the computer.

Meanwhile, the rest of the group seemed to notice they were minus one mouse. Looking around, Stoker finally spotted him above them, his tall frame hunched over a glowing screen.

"Hey, Kid! Your missing out on the victory party here." he called out.

Creed didn't look up as he answered. "It's no victory until we find her."

Beside Stoker, Throttle winced. Even during the fight he hadn't missed how this place was set up. It was a research laboratory, no private rooms, nothing but a large open space with a lot of computers. No girl. His earlier words to Charley came back to haunt him. What if he had been right? He had a feeling if it came down to it, it would take no small amount of manpower to take this Martian from his designated, however impossible goal.

"Hey," he called up, "why don't you come on down? You fought pretty good for a civilian, you deserve a few of these punches."

Creed ignored him.

They all looked at each other. No doubt more Plutarkians were on their way, and they had to get out of this room fairly soon. Taking a deep breath, Throttle prepared his best compromise tone.

"Look, you come with us, we can go find your sister okay?"

Creed stopped and locked eyes with him. "What do you think I'm doing?" he asked.

Breaking eye contact his turned to the computer and entered in one last set of commands. Throttle opened his mouth to reply, but stopped short as the steel plated dome above them began to slowly open.

One plate yielded to another, and as each retreated the light in room became more intense, a golden glow beating a rhythm so similar to the one they had seen back in the transporter room. Slowly a thin glass dome began to appear, and it became obvious whatever the light was, it was coming from inside.

As their eyes adjusted, Throttle began to notice how the light seemed to gravitate in thin strands towards the center of the dome. He followed the path of those strands as they gathered together, twisting and curling, forming what was beginning to look like...wings. Following the strange appendages down to their source he let out a startled gasp. At that moment he realized what the fluctuation he had seen earlier reminded him of.

"Heartbeat." he murmured.

"Oh mama." Modo said. Beside him Rimfire's mouth dropped open.

Nestled in the center of the dome, floating in a kind of half fetal position was a long limbed humanoid girl. Her thin arms were pulled up to her chest and her eyes were closed tight, as if in an attempt to shut out the ugly reality around her. The odd wings of light flowed down to connect between her shoulder blades, and at their base several thin wires had been attached and then looped loosely to connect with the dome's ceiling. But they were the only foreign objects on her.

Down below, the others gaped. Stoker shook his head in disbelief. He unknowingly shared the same opinion as Throttle on this mission. He wasn't expecting to find Creed's younger sibling on this stink ship. He especially had not been prepared to find...whatever that was up there.

"Anyone else notice the lack of family resemblance?" Vinnie said quietly.

Stoker ignored him and began climbing the stairs to join Creed.

Separated by the thin wall, Creed came as close to his sister as possible, pressing his hands against the glass and resting his head between them. Activating his antennae, he touched them lightly to the glass, silently hoping she was conscious enough to respond. He feared for her. Even now that he could see her, he worried all the more. What she must have been through these last few weeks. Had it been enough to break her?

"Raye." he whispered. "I know you can do it. Come on, wake up."

At first nothing. Then her body trembled once, and Creed's courage grew.

_"That's it, you can do it. Wake up now Raye. I've come to take you home."_

He felt her become aware of him, slowly lifting herself from the drug induced haze she had been under. And then her mind touched his.

_"But we have no home brother."_

He smiled, a genuine smile, for the first time in weeks. It was an old argument, one they had kept up since childhood, when their father had one day asked them a simple educational question. What is home?

Closing his eyes, he concentrated on helping her clear the remnants of fog from her mind, slowly bringing her back.

Standing beside him, Stoker was joined by Throttle and Rimfire, but the mouse was oblivious to them all. He whispered a few words, but so quietly they had no chance of understanding, and then there was silence. Stoker guessed what Creed was doing, trying to reach the girl inside with his mind. It was possible, but only if the other person was Martian, which this child obviously was not. Which was why he was so shocked when Creed suddenly broke into a wide smile and the girl inside slowly opened her eyes to the world.

* * *

Limburger had just been getting ready to enjoy a gourmet Plutarkian worm broth when a nervous looking junior officer brushed past him, causing him to spill the contents of his spoon onto his formal dining attire. He sighed. All that effort of getting into this ridiculous outfit, and now it was ruined. As he began to brush the brown liquid from his robes, the offending newcomer made his way to the head of the table, and whispered into the Vice-Chairman's ear. Their host started and then scowled, causing the messenger to take a frightened step back. 

Their host stood abruptly and pulled the young officer forward by his stiff collar. "Get reinforcements there immediately. The cargo is to be retained at all costs, is that understood officer?"

"Y..Yes sir. The special units have already been deployed but..."

"How could you allow a ship past your guard? Are your pilots so inept?"

Limburger continued to clean his robes as Brie watched the exchange unfolding at the head of the table. Why should he care about his Lordship's pro...

"But sir...I mean, your Lordship, they have no ship. We think the mice somehow used our transporter."

Limburger's head snapped up. Mice? Transporter? With the shield transference on this ship that could only mean..."Karbunkle, you idiot." he murmured, trying to shrink into his high backed chair.

Brie seemed to come to the same conclusion just as Limburger did, for he turned a devious eye on the cowarding crime lord across the table. He smiled widely.

"Why Limburger, I bewieve you have mice probwems in Chicago, do you not?" he said, just loud enough for the Vice-Chairman to hear. "Pewhaps you could be of assistance."

The Vice-Chairman stopped shaking the pitiful junior officer in his grasp and turned a critical eye to Limburger. "And what," he demanded, "is this _problem _you have?"

* * *

Stoker watched the scene before him in fascination. He had seen a lot of strange happenings over the years, but this was going in the 'all time odd' category. Five feet away, Creed stood, his antennae still glowing and touching the glass, but his eyes now open and steadily locked with the golden ones on the other side of the wall. Yes, the child inside had golden eyes, a shade the aged freedom fighter had never seen before, in any species. Truth be told, despite her rather human looking form, she was distinct from any species he had ever come across. And it wasn't just because of the brilliant wings protruding from her back either. 

The two seemed to be having a non verbal conversation. The girl had unfolded herself from her earlier position and thanks to the apparent lack of gravity inside the dome, was now floating just slightly above her brother, pale hands matching his against the glass. She still seemed a little out of it, but from the reactions on Creed's face, she was able to communicate, one of the many concepts Stoker was still trying to wrap his mind around.

His eyes still fixed forward, Rimfire leaned over to Throttle. "Their talking aren't they?" he asked.

Throttle nodded, his shade covered eyes revealing none of the surprise he felt. "Yeah."

"How?"

Throttle shrugged as Stoker leaned over and gestured to the object of their attention. "You think nows a good time to ask kid?"

Rimfire opened his mouth to respond, but an explosion from the other side of the the thick bay doors drowned out anything he might have said.

"Looks like we finally have more company tonight boys." Stoker said, pulling his laser pistol from the holster. He motioned to Rimfire. "Get to work on the glass prison kid."

Rimfire complied as Creed pulled away from the glass, breaking his link with Raye. She stared down at him with worried eyes and mouthed a question.

"Soldiers. They know we're here." he answered. She looked over his head to see the thick door. It was then she seemed to realize there were others in the room. Her eyes grew wider as she saw Stoker and Throttle, now standing behind her brother, and Rimfire, who glanced over and gave a shy wave. Suddenly aware of her state of undress, she quickly curled into a tight ball, looking to Creed for answers.

Creed looked from Throttle to Stoker. "Allies." he told her, an answer that did nothing to ease the confusion on her features.

Stoker rolled his eyes and from behind Creed and mouthed "Friends." She glanced from her brother to Stoker then nodded her head in acknowledgment.

"Attention intruders." an unfamiliar voice sounded from the ships intercom system. "Cease and desist from your current actions immediately. Open the bay doors and submit to Plutarkian authority."

Next to Modo, Vinnie snorted. "Yeah okay. I'm sure we'll get a fair trial, no problem. Just give me a couple minutes to make myself presentable." he said, pretending primp in the mirror of his bike. Modo watched as a faint sparking line began to work it's way up the bay door, and it became obvious their new friends were going to make their way in eventually.

"Ya better get the lil' lady out real soon, those stink fish are workin' their way in." he called up.

Stoker looked over to Rimfire who ground his teeth in frustration. The security here was much tighter than that in the transporter room. Whoever had written the program had made certain no one besides themselves was getting in. Every access code he had obtained from the transporter rooms' computer was blocked, and after trying to override the system, the computer simply shut itself down, going completely blank. This time he did flip it off.

"Kid?" Stoker asked.

Rimfire punched the screen and shook his head. "No good. It's down. We're not getting her out that way."

Beside Stoker, Throttle activated his nuke-nuks and pulled back his fist. "Guess we're going to have to be old fashioned about this." he said, throwing a powerful punch to the glass before Creed had a chance to react.

If it had been ordinary glass, it would have shattered into a thousand pieces immediately, freeing it's prisoner and allowing her to escape to the protective arms of her older brother. However, it was not ordinary glass, and it showed not a scratch to reward Throttle for his pain. The tan mouse held his injured hand and hissed through gritted teeth.

Creed leaned down and took his hand, pressing his fingers to a small point in the center of Throttle's palm. The pain eased as Creed released his hand.

"Plutarkian glass steel." he said. "Brave, but not particularly smart of you."

Throttle bit his tongue out of gratitude for his hand, but was beginning to understand Vinnie's annoyance with the guy.

"Half way there." Modo announced from below.

Rimfire looked at Stoker. "We could try the bikes weapon systems. We use enough firepower, we might be able to crack it." he said. Stoker nodded his agreement as an alarmed Creed stepped between them and the dome.

"And hurt Raye in the process. I won't allow it." he said.

Finally annoyed enough with the whole night's events, Stoker pushed the dark mouse against the glass with a snarl. "A few bruises or in the hands of those stink fish, take your choice junior. Or maybe we could all just die, how's that?"

Creed was close to starting a fight when he felt a familiar presence touch his mind.

_"Stand back."_

_"Raye?"_

_"I'll break the glass for you."_

Behind him, Raye had pressed her head and hands against the glass, her eyes shut in concentration, the light of her wings growing in intensity.

_"Raye, there's no way..."_

_"I've learned a bit more since coming here. I'm going to try. The others should stay back, I don't know what..."_ She trailed off as her concentration deepened and cut him off completely. Unable to call her back, he reluctantly moved back from the dome, pulling the others by their arms. They stopped when their backs hit the railing of the wise walkway.

"Junior, what..." Stoker started before noticing the pulsating light of the dome. Hell, something weird was going to happen.

"Their almost in!" Vinnie called from the floor, excited and oblivious to the strangeness occurring above.

Creed watched as inside the dome his sister became nearly one with the light surrounding her. Only the vague silhouette of her thin body and the glow of her hands against the glass remained. For a few intense seconds he thought her efforts would come to nothing, but then the wall began to vibrate, creating an eerie humming in the room. The glass at her palms cracked.

Like a leafless tree, the lines of the cracks branched out, growing in number and spreading from the bottom of the dome to the sides, and then up. There was a brief second of silence and then the glass shattered, raining down on them in tiny pieces, and finally letting outside world in. No longer suspended in zero gravity, Raye dropped unconscious to the floor the dome, the thin wires snapping and the illuminated wings fading from her back, leaving small trails of red in memory.

Jumping over the ragged edges of the dome that remained, Creed peeled off his coat and wrapped it around his sister, then felt for the pulse at her neck. It was weak.

Stoker decided he was going wonder how the last few minutes happened later. Preferably much later. What was important now was getting everyone out of this cursed room and back to Earth in one piece. Which brought him to his next problem. How?

One unconscious girl, six mice and five bikes. He glanced over the railing just in time to part of the bay doors crash to the floor. He ducked down in the resulting laser fire being exchanged, and grinned as he raised his laser pistol. What the hell, he'd had worse odds.

Still keeping his head down, he left Throttle and Rimfire to assist their friends from above, kneeling beside Creed and the girl cradled in his arms.

"Keep your head down and follow my lead junior, we're getting out of here." he bellowed. Creed grimaced and secured his hold on Raye.

"Throttle, Rimfire, we're heading down, cover us."

"Not staying for the encore coach?" Throttle asked, firing repeatedly at the group of Plutarkian soldiers pushing through the doorway below.

"Not today, I don't know about you, but I'm getting sick of this stick pit. Get ready to lead the charge kid."

Throttle grinned. It was good to have the coach take up the reins again. Maybe he didn't have the finesse of his youth, but there was nothing diminished in his leadership.

"You got it coach. Modo, Vinnie, mow a trail, we're heading out!"

"Awww, just when it was getting good!"

"Vincent..."

"But..."

Stoker growled from his bike. "Shut up rookie. Move it!"

The next few minutes were a blur. With Vinnie and Modo to lead the way, Stoker kept to the middle, trying avoid too many stunts on his bike, as it couldn't be easy for Creed to stay secure. Instead, for a very rare occasion in his life, he let the others do the work, and he kept those behind him safe.

Plutarkians were everywhere. All the guards and soldiers they had wondered about when they first arrived were now coming out of the woodwork. Rimfire shouted directions through their helmets as they fought, directing them towards the transporter room. When they had finally made it to their destination, yet another group of soldiers stood ready. As Throttle, Modo, and Vinnie took care of the hostiles, Rimfire punched in Earth's coordinates, thankful the ships shields only blocked incoming transporter access. If it had gone both ways, they would have been in deep trouble, for just as the transporter activated a small army, headed by an extremely fat and formal looking Plutarkian, came through the bay doors.

"No! Don't let them escape!" he screamed as Throttle let loose a barrage of laser fire in his direction. The fat Plutarkian let out a high pitched squeal, and scampered for cover as the group opened fire.

Throttle turned to Stoker. "We're right behind you!" he yelled.

Stoker hesitated but a moment before gunning his bike. "See you on the other end!" he said, before disappearing into the light of the transporter, Rimfire right on his heels, determined to keep his mentor under guard in case there was trouble back at the tower.

Modo followed next, and Throttle practically kicked Vinnie through after him. He was about to leave himself when he heard a familiar frightened yell from the other side of the room. He scowled at the sound of Limburger's voice, but was forced to gun his bike as a barrage of laser fire threatened to scar his hide.

Passing through back to Chicago, and the familiar smell of Limburger tower, he joined the others as they tore through Karbunkle's lab, who incidentally, despite Modo's net, had managed to escape. Blasting through the tenth story window, they sent rockets flying back to the tower as they left, hitting the base and collapsing Limburger's stronghold yet again.

They were about halfway to the scoreboard when Creed demanded they stop.

"Tough luck sweetheart, you should have gone before we left." Vinnie laughed, still running on his post destruction high.

Creed was not amused. "Now! She's slipping away!" he yelled.

Oh, right. In the rush of the fight to escape, they had almost forgotten the black bundle in Creed's arms. Stoker pulled to a stop next to a thin swatch of grass and Creed laid his cargo down. The others watched as he ran back to Stokers bike and pulled off the small duffel he had stowed on the back of the bike when he had first arrived.

Coming back to his sister he felt for her pulse again, only to find that it had weakened even more. Cursing under his breath, he pulled a thin brown vial of adrenaline from a protected case and inserted it into a small administering gun. He felt the soft thump of the glass moving into place, put the gun to Raye's neck, and pulled the trigger.

Vinnie, who hated anything resembling scientific medical equipment, immediately spoke up. "Hey! What the hell do you think your doing?"

Creed said nothing, his attention focused on Raye's pulse rate. It was a tense two and a half minutes before it leveled out to an acceptable range.

Another minute passed and a pair of golden eyes emerged from heavy lids.

"Brother."

Creed moved the thick bangs from her eyes. "What have I told you about overexerting yourself?" he scolded.

The corners of her mouth tipped up. "It's bad for digestion?" she whispered.

He frowned.

Throttle came up from behind and watched as the girl shivered in the Fall cold.

"Think she can stand to be moved?" he asked.

Creed nodded and gathered a sleepy Raye back up onto Stoker's bike.

"Stay awake." he told her before they hit the road again.

* * *

_Reviews most welcome. _

_P.S. Outside perspective, it's a beautiful thing._


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: I do not, nor have I ever owned the Biker Mice From Mars. Sad fact, but true._

_For anyone tracking this story out there, please forgive the lateness of this chapter. Busy times right now. A big thanks to silverphyrbyrd for the input on the last chapter. _

_Also, I am having a bit of a hard time with the character of Brie, as I really don't remember him from the show. His speech is especially hard, all I'm doing is working off my best guesses at the moment. Anyone who has any idea about this character, I would be very grateful for your help. :)_

_Enjoy!_

* * *

There were certain times of the night Charley firmly believed one should not be awake for. Three hours and forty five minutes after midnight was one of them. As it was, this was the exact time the ragged and exhausted band of Martians she called her friends decided to return. It never ceased to amaze her how no matter what the tally of bruises, cuts, or in some cases broken bones, they came home with, they were always in a cheerful mood. Tonight was no exception.

While she cleaned, disinfected, and bandaged them up in a state of sleepy half-consciousness, her band of misfit bikers clapped each other on the backs, chugged down bottle after bottle of root beer, and tried to get in at least three friendly wrestling matches. At which point she put her foot down and threatened to shave them bald in their sleep if they didn't behave. They behaved.

And then there was Creed. There was a reason the saying 'doctors make the worst patients' existed. From the moment they had arrived at the scoreboard, he had stubbornly refused all medical attention in favor of tending to whom she could only assume was his sister. Finally, after two anxious hours, and long after the guys had crashed in various positions around the scoreboard, did the doctor painfully remove his tattered shirt and let her clean him up.

It was now two in the afternoon, closing in on twelve hours since their return, and Charley was nursing a strong cup of java as she attempted to massage away the twinges of pain in her neck. She chuckled softly at the entertaining picture of Vinnie sleeping nearly upside down in the living room hammock, a thin line of drool threatening to drop onto Modo's foot below. Stepping over Rimfire's sprawled out body, she made her way across the scoreboard.

Close to six months ago Throttle had decided the barrack-like sleeping arrangements of the scoreboard needed to be altered. So, in a particularly ambitious afternoon, the four of them partitioned off separate rooms, officially transforming the scoreboard into apartment living, minus the loud upstairs neighbors. The biker mice were the loud neighbors.

One of those rooms currently held Throttle. Vinnie's housed Stoker, who had somehow conned the white mouse out of his bed after they had returned from parking Creed's ship in a less conspicuous location last night. Charley had eventually taken up residence on the couch and Modo had offered his bed to Raye. It was in his room that Creed had spent most of the last ten hours.

Charley paused in the open doorway of Modo's room, leaning against the door jam as she studied the two inside. It was the only room of the three that had a window, and the afternoon sun had found it's way inside, falling in soft streams across the sleeping girl in the large bed. Stoker had referred to her as the 'child', but it was a label that probably reflected Stoker's age rather than reality.

She was small, but beneath the sheets she had the soft curves of someone who had been through the aggravating years of puberty, leading Charley to suspect she was probably closer to fifteen or sixteen than Stoker's ten or twelve. This morning however, it was her hair and skin color which stood out to the mechanic most of all. Perhaps it was due in part to the contrast of her brother, but she had the fairest complexion Charley had ever seen. The old books would have described her as having alabaster skin, and the silvery white of her long hair would have pushed her over into the realm of otherworldly.

Her brother on the other hand was the perfect opposite. Sleeping back in the shadows in a rather uncomfortable looking chair, his coal gray fur was just on the fair side of black, the stark white of the bandages darkening him even further. The arms crossed at his chest were toned, but lacked the bulk of her friends, and as she had noted earlier, the leanness of his body made him look taller than he was. The thick bangs of his black hair fell haphazardly over his closed eyes, and a thin ponytail peeked over his left shoulder where his neck was crooked to the side.

Charley smiled to herself. Poor guy was going to have a nasty headache when he woke up. Spying his long coat in the corner where it had been tossed, she quietly picked it up and moved to place it over him when a strong hand clamped over her wrist. She looked up at half opened red eyes, still fogged over from the night.

"Who are you?" he asked, and Charley tried not to laugh at the sleepy slur in his voice.

"Well that's a fine way to treat your nurse. Don't you remember?"

For a moment he looked like a lost child as he tried to process her words through his exhaustion. Then his eyes seemed to clear and he let go of her wrist.

"Last night. You tended my wounds." he said, slowly unfolding himself from the chair, gesturing to it as he stood. "I apologize." Charley smiled again at his formality, but took the chair being offered as he moved to the side of the bed.

"Is she going to be okay?" she asked, as he checked his sister's blood pressure and then her temperature. After a few moments he nodded.

"I believe so. She's not as weak as she was, although she's severely malnutritioned. I'll need to get some more supplies from the ship." He glanced at the black coat at Charley's feet. "And clothes." he added.

Charley chuckled. "I have to admit, she's not what I was expecting."

He cracked a wry grin. "You were picturing more hair perhaps?"

"And less nudity."

At that he winced and Charley nearly slapped herself. Open mouth, insert foot.

"I'm...I'm sorry, that came out wrong."

Creed shook his head as he sat and leaned against the side of the bed, eyes downcast. "No. It's something I'll have to face eventually. They had her for weeks..." he trailed off.

"Do you think they...?" Charley really didn't want to finish the sentence, let alone the thought, especially where it involved Plutarkians. However, much to her relief, he shook his head.

"No, I don't think...no. They were after her for other reason's, not...that." He didn't elaborate further, so they sat in silence for a while, each listening to the steady rhythm of Raye's breathing.

"There was a time when I wished every night before I slept that she would be taken away like this." he suddenly confessed, staring absentmindedly at the blue sky beyond the window. "She demanded so much of my parent's time when we first found her. Just a baby but still, at ten, I resented the interference."

Surprised, Charley shifted in her seat, leaning forward in interest.

"What changed?"

He thought for a moment, then shrugged.

"I suppose she grew on me. Over time I began to see her as family, rather than the interloper. Then our parents died, which changed everything for us."

"You raised her?"

"It depends on your definition. I provided for her, protected her. However, she in turn taught me what I could not learn from a computer log. Such as laughter."

Charley looked doubtful. "You laugh?"

"On occasion."

"Only when he's had enough to eat. Even then you have to work for it." They were soft spoken, but the words captured the adult's attentions effectively. Creed turned to see Raye struggling to sit up and gently pushed her back down to the pillows. He tucked the sheets more securely around her shoulder's as she frowned.

"I grew on you?" she asked, her voice rough from neglect.

"You need to stop eavesdropping, it's a bad habit." he said, reaching down into his bag yet again for the temperature gage.

"But I grew on you?" she insisted, and Charley bit back a smile at Creed's twitching tail.

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Some things cannot be helped. Turn your head." he ordered as she complied. "Cute children are often difficult to resist." he added.

"You said I was ugly."

The alarm sounded and he frowned at the results even as he pushed her back down to the bed again.

"Enough Raye." He held the gage in front of her face. "Observe. Up two degrees already from when you were sleeping. That's too high even for you. Now rest."

She looked over to Charley and studied her a bit. "Hello."

Creed sighed and shook his head as he returned the small wand to its' case.

Charley smiled. "Hi."

"Will you be honest with me?" she asked as Charley's grin faltered.

"Well..."

"Are you human?"

"You could say that." she answered slowly. Her caution was unwarranted however, as Raye broke into a somewhat rasping laugh.

"Earth! The stars are kind. Another entry for my book Creed?"

"When your ready. Your not moving until I say you can."

"It still exists doesn't it? You threated to burn it."

"When I was fifteen Raye."

"Which doesn't mean you haven't been plotting it's demise. I know you brother."

Charley laughed outright and stood to her feet as the other two stopped short in their pseudo-fight.

"I'm glad I was an only child, you two must drive each other crazy." She looked over at Raye. "Do you think you could keep something down?"

Creed clamped his hand over her open mouth. "Liquids, nothing solid for now." Raye protested into his hand as Charley opened the door.

"A doctor's apprentice should know better than to try and eat solid food after weeks of intravenous feeding..."

He was still talking as Charley closed the door. Stoker and Throttle were in the kitchen, trying to choke down her coffee.

"I take it the kid's awake?" Stoker asked.

Charley searched the cupboards for the tea she had bought the guys ages ago. As expected, she found it still in it's wrapper. Thank god for non-perishables.

"Which one do you mean?"

Stoker grinned. "The cute one." he said, taking a swig and grimacing into the mug.

"Darlin' your the best mechanic I know, but your coffee is way below par."

Charley bumped him to the side of the sink with her hip in protest and filled up a small pot with water. She smiled over at him as she moved to the small stove.

"I'll keep that in mind 'he who cannot boil water'. And to answer your question, it's all a matter of perspective."

Stoker let out a small cat call as Throttle grinned.

"Better not let Vinnie hear that Charley-girl. He's already got a beef with the guy, it won't help matter's for him to think the good doctor has captured his girl's attention."

Charley rolled her eyes as she tore the plastic wrapping from the box.

"Please. And since when did I become the motor mouth's girl?"

Stoker put his arm around her.

"That mean your available darlin'?"

"It means nothing. And the answer to your question is yes. She woke up about ten minutes ago, and she's already giving Creed a headache."

"She's feeling well enough to talk then?" Throttle asked, a bit surprised.

Charley poured the boiling water into the mug. "Yeah. Although, she sounds a bit like my grandmother right now." She glanced over her shoulder. "You weren't expecting her to?"

Throttle and Stoker were quiet, so she turned to look a them.

"Guys?"

They both stared at their coffee, but it was the elder mouse who finally spoke up.

"To be honest, not really. What we found up there was, well, to put it mildly, strange."

"Strange."

"The girl's not normal Charley." Stoker insisted as she crossed her arms over her chest and gave them her best glare.

"Coming from you guys? That's rich."

"Don't take this the wrong way darlin', but your view of normal is somewhat limited compared to the rest of the galaxy. What she did up there, what she looked like, I'm telling you it was not normal. Not only that, but it was obvious those stink fish knew what to do with her. Something tells me there was a whole lot junior left out when he came to me." Stoker said, leaning in the way he did when he felt something was important.

Charley gently pushed him back. "Well, don't look at me. I just cleaned him up. Besides the obvious difference's, they look like siblings to me. That's all I know."

Hesitantly, Throttle cleared his throat. "Charley-girl, I've seen how people tend to let their guard down around you, did he tell you anything?"

Charley's eyes narrowed. "You did not just ask me that."

He held up his hands defensively. "We need to know what we're dealing with, and he hasn't offered the info..."

"Perhaps he has a reason." Creed said, walking into the kitchen.

Stoker glared at him. "There are some things I can take on faith junior, but this ain't one of them."

The dark mouse ignored him and took the mug from Charley's hands. Sniffing it, he offered her a smile. "Herbal is universal. This will do nicely, thank you."

"Your trying my patience kid."

Charley took the mug from his hands. "I think I'll go give this to Raye." she said, backing out of the kitchen. She turned as she reached the closed door of Modo's room. "You have to trust someone Creed, believe me, you could do worse than these guys. They forgave someone who helped destroy half their planet once, their worth the effort."

The three mice looked at each other as she closed the door behind her. Creed considered her words as the other two waited impatiently. After a few moments he forced himself to make the decision he had been mulling over for hours and looked over at a snoring Modo, paying particular attention to his arm.

"Plutarkian handiwork?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah. All of us here have been Plutarkian playthings at one time or another. With the exception of Charley-girl that is, thanks the gods for that." Throttle answered, lowering his shades so he could see his eyes.

"Like spoiled children who think the universe is their playground." Creed said half to himself. Stoker recognized the bitter tone.

"Was she a toy of theirs?" he asked.

Creed grimaced but nodded his head.

"The one the other kid stole." He looked the aged freedom fighter in the eyes. "Raye's an experiment. Not the kind that's added to. The kind that's created. You understand?"

Stoker took a deep breathe, but nodded. "No people, no planet. A Loner."

"She has me. And she had our parents, as well as our parent's name."

"A name hasn't protected her Creed." Throttle said candidly.

"I'm aware of that."

"Are you?"

"Your suggesting I..."

"Enough! I'm getting up there junior, but I'll admit, the little gal was something new for me. First of all, what was with the wings? And why doesn't she have them anymore?" Stoker demanded.

Creed thought for a moment. How could he explain something he didn't completely understand himself? He knew what Raye's favorite foods were, her personality quirks, her fears. But how her body worked, how she did what she did, or even what she did, was still mostly an enigma to both him and her. Perhaps it always would be. And it frustrated him to know the Plutarkians apparently had more answers than he did.

"All I can offer you are my best guesses. She's always been the source of unusual events, ever since childhood. Power surges in the ship when she was punished, an increase in room temperature when she would cry, and to be honest I would rather forget the year she began puberty. That's when the wings first made their appearance."

He paused for a moment and reflected on the events of that day. It had been a bad one, for both of them. Doctor or not, he was still a male, and her brother at that. Awkwardly explaining to her what was happening, while trying unsuccessfully to ignore the powerful surges in the ship (thank the god's they had been on land at the time), and then seeing those two appendages raise up from her back had been a nightmare. He still wasn't sure what would have happened if he hadn't been able to calm her down.

"I think," he continued, "whatever they are, whatever she does, it's tied to her emotions somehow. Strong ones, and with a negative context. I've never once seen anything out of the ordinary happen when she's happy or excited."

"Your saying she has no control over it?"

"Yes."

"And when she broke the glass?"

"Plutarkian glass steel, as I remember you pointing out." Throttle added.

Creed thought back to the events of the previous night. "I don't know."

"What about that private conversation you two had? You do know that even for our kind, it's rare." Throttle said.

He shrugged. "It's something we've always been able to do. My family has a history of above average telepaths, but as for Raye, I have no answer. To say it's genetics is a tricky answer at best."

There was a tense silence as the three tried to think of what to do or say next. It was Stoker who broke the quiet with a laugh.

"Well hell, I feel like I've just been ordered to take out a hive of Stalkers, and all they handed me was a water gun."

"I have told you what I know." Creed replied stiffly as Stoker slapped him hard on the back, pitching him forward a few steps.

"I wouldn't have said that if I thought differently kid. Ease up. I'm just saying you haven't exactly given a retiree an easy mission is all."

"Mission?"

"Not exactly to quick on the uptake is he?" Stoker grinned over at Throttle.

It took a second for Creed to realize the repercussions of the statement.

"Raye is safe now, your help was not asked for beyond that."

"Too bad, your getting it."

"..."

"What makes you think your safe?" Throttle jumped in. "My bro's and I have been destroying Limburger's tower at least twice a month for just about three years now. In case you didn't notice earlier, he's still around. Plutarkians may not be the smartest bunch in the universe, but their damn persistent. Even if you take her right now and blast off this planet, they'll chase you down, no doubt about it."

"Is it your goal to make our situation sound tragic?"

"Just trying to wake you up to the facts. You've been lucky up till now. Your going to need us."

Creed looked from one to the other and let out a defeated sigh. "Your helping whether I agree or not, am I right?"

"To make a long story short? Yeah, that's about it." Stoker said cheerfully. "Besides, right now you couldn't go very far anyway. Ya see," he said, thumbing over at Vinnie, "the rookie over there sort of broke your ship last night."

* * *

Restlessly stalking out a path in the captain's spacious office, Lord Vice-Chairman Livarot struggled to keep his thoughts moving towards a coherent direction. He was under no delusion that the night previous had anything but a total disaster. Complete collapse of mission parameters. He knew this, and could work with it. However, the knowledge that this incident would soon be making it's way into the high halls of the Plutarkian council was keeping him from forming any kind of definable plan at the moment. How his two fellow Vice-Chairman's would drool over this news, he could only imagine.

Damn Limburger, damn him to the furthest reaches of the fifth circle of frozen hell! If it hadn't been for his complete ineptitude in eliminating those rodents, it would never had happened. The project was a Loner, no one to back her up or even care but a counterfeit brother, and his failure to even keep adequate tabs on her became more than apparent on Alston six. All it had taken was a desperate old woman in need of a bit of quick cash, and after fifteen years of quietly searching she was back in his grasp. It was a long time to wait for a career advancement. He had reveled in finally being able to report to the council his ace in the hole.

No longer. The card had slipped from his hand once again thanks to yet another group of sand ridden Martians. The first ones had cost him millions in Plutarkian gold and a destroyed research lab. The second group was dangerously close to costing him his long awaited promotion into the coveted ranks of the Chairman's circle. A rank where the true power lay. From there the path led only to High Chairman, a position only one could hold, and a position he had every intention of balancing in his hand one day.

Until that time he was stuck with the others, pushing and scraping for Lord Camembert's attention in a seemingly endless race for recognition. He would not fail.

Coming to a stop he paused to look from the large window denting out into space behind the captains desk. He took a deep breath as he strengthened his resolve. Let the other two skirmish for the prize that had escaped from his grasp. It would only serve to magnify their inadequacies when he succeeded.

They would each hire and send the most expensive bounty hunters on the market, thinking in their foolishness that price equaled dedication. They knew nothing of dedication, or what it took to extract it. He would call for his own man. When the other two had failed, and he would see to it they did, his servant would bow to him with the prize. He would be ensured his placement in the Chairman's circle.

"Limburger! Brie!" he shouted into the vidcom. The anxious faces of the crime lords appeared at once.

"Yes your Lordship?" the both gushed, each the very picture of one wishing to please.

"Prepare to transport. Inform the captain his services will no longer be required as I will be leaving for Earth shortly. Brie," he said, and the short Plutarkian jumped to attention.

"How mway I bwe of assistance?"

"You will leave now and prepare for my arrival. Limburger will be joining you once he had gathered his resources from Chicago."

Both visibly paled. Limburger tried to clear his throat as Livarot look on.

"Something you wish to add Limburger?"

"D..Does this mean I will be taking up residence in Detroit?"

Livarot's smile was cruel. "It does. Your friends seemed to have destroyed your...fortress yet again. Gather what you deem to be useful and make yourself present in Detroit. Is this in any way unreasonable to you?"

"N...No, Lord Vice-Chairman."

"Brie?"

"I humbwaly await your awival Lordship."

Both disappeared from the screens and Livarot reflected for a moment before punching in a set of commands to the vidcom. The screen remained black as a deep baritone filled the office.

"Lord Livarot."

The Vice-Chairman tapped his fingers on the steel of the desk as the person on the line waited in silence.

"Your time has come Pawnn."

A pause.

"Understood."

_Reviews most welcome :)_

_Sidenote: Just thought I'd share a bit of cheese trivia with you. Livarot, according to wikipedia (gotta love wikipedia) is a "Soft, pungent washed rind cheese". Bleh. It seemed suitable for a Plutarkian name. Especially the pungent part._


	5. Chapter 5

_Disclaimer: I do not, nor have I ever owned the Biker Mice From Mars. Such tragedy. _

_Well, here it is, the NEXT CHAPTER. I think I poured over this one way too long. Oh well._

_To any Anonymous reviewers out there. I think I have made it so you can review now. Sorry about that, I'm still figuring this all out. Sadly, I am not very good with computers. I am working on this problem :)_

_Enjoy!_

* * *

Lazily reclined in the scoreboard hammock, Stoker gently rocked from side to side as he watched Rimfire and Vinnie attempt to crush each other in the virtual world of video game bliss. They happily insulted each other as the characters on screen attempted to kill each other in ways Stoker didn't think even existed. The aging freedom fighter could understand the need for a good fight now and then, he'd certainly initiated enough of them in the past, but try as he might he still couldn't understand the appeal of letting someone else do the fighting for you. Where was the fun in that?

Perhaps it was the cabin fever setting in. Four days had passed since their little misadventure in space, and he'd been stuck inside way too long. Throttle, Modo, and Rimfire, along with Charley had been taking turns with Creed to visit his somewhat battered ship for the last few days, repairing what they could until the supplies Charley had ordered arrived. After the last incident, Creed had stubbornly refused to let either him or Vinnie near the ship. Vinnie still maintained he that he didn't understand what the big deal was. In his words all he had done was 'push that button'.

If anything, Creed was one to think ahead, and the small pieces of gold he kept for emergency's had come in handy. If there was was thing certain in this universe, it was that a little gold could get you out of a lot of trouble. Or get you into it. Stoker supposed it depended on how you used it. In this case it had helped.

"Mr. Stoker? Have you seen the box of cooking things Miss Charley left me?"

Speaking of cabin fever. Raye had been officially confined to the scoreboard by her brother until she was back to full health, even though after the first day she had been on her feet and begging to be let out. Apparently, despite being apprenticed to Creed, she had an unusual passion for cultural studies and was eager to learn all about this new planet. She was itching to get her hands dirty, so to speak.

Charley had made the mistake of showing her all of the educational channels on cable, and from that moment on they all had to wrestle the remote from her hand if they wanted to watch anything besides, oh say, the history of the panama canal. Whatever that was. Throttle or Rimfire could probably tell him. The two were the only ones who didn't seem to care when those were on. Stoker suspected them of actually liking them.

"Yeah, she put it by the door."

"Oh. Thank you."

"No problem cutie."

His official nickname for the little albino sprite. He was still getting used to her, and the idea of her being a Loner, but at least she didn't brood like other people he could name.

He swung himself from his perch onto the cold concrete of the scoreboard floor, his fur clad feet still wondering at how Raye's bare ones managed to stay unfrozen despite the dropping temperatures. From day one she had padded around in her lightweight clothing and with no shoes without any apparent thought as to just how damn cold it was in the unheated scoreboard. He missed Mars.

"So what are we getting?" he asked, jumping to the counter as she unpacked the box.

She frowned as she considered the varying tools in front of her and the note Charley had left.

"Whatever is in these boxes." she answered, peering anxiously at one small box in particular. It had a smiling hand on the front.

Cooking. Raye's first official experiment into human culture.

She looked up him. "What is hamburger?"

* * *

The others returned to the scoreboard two hours later, dirty and exhausted from the long day. Stoker looked up from the pot he was stirring and gave them a once over.

"You guys look terrible." he said with a grin.

Charley glanced over in alarm. "Your not the one cooking our food tonight are you?"

Stoker tried to look put out. "And here I slave all day for you darlin'. Nope, relax, all I'm allowed to do is stir. Gotta follow orders. How's the ship?"

Creed glared at him and then pointedly over to an oblivious Vinnie. "Damaged."

Stoker rolled his eyes at the answer he'd been given for the past three days. "Well, good to hear some things stay consistent."

"Don't be so rude Creed." Raye scolded, returning from Modo's room with a worn book in hand.

"Yeah, don't be so rude." Stoker mimicked, eliciting a giggle from her.

Creed inwardly groaned. He'd let Raye spend entirely too much time here.

Throttle and Modo flopped down on the couch as Charley rushed off to the shower. Creed watched Stoker and Raye from the corner of his eye as he toyed with his hand held computer at the table. After a few minutes Rimfire joined him.

"Doctor stuff?" he asked, motioning to the computer.

"Hmm? No, just calculating cost's for the repairs and supplies we need." Creed responded. Putting down the computer, he rubbed the bridge of his snout. "I keep all my medical records on the ship."

"Must be rough, traveling from planet to planet like that. Where's home for you guys?"

He looked up. "What do you mean?"

Rimfire was confused. "Well, you know, where do you go after your done taking care of people, doing your rounds?"

"The ship."

"But..."

"It's not wise to become attached anywhere." Creed said shortly.

Rimfire stared at him for a moment. So much for that conversation. He tried a more predictable subject.

"Speaking your ship, how did the repairs go on the landing gear?" he asked, his mind wandering as Creed listed off the the events of the day. He liked the guy well enough, but he was sure sensitive. From behind the counter, Raye caught his eye and smiled apologetically. Creed was pointing something out on the computer, so he gave a slight shrug to his shoulders. It didn't really bother him, but he sort of felt bad for her. Raye obviously liked getting attached to people.

"Chow time!" Stoker announced.

Creed stared at his plate as Raye anxiously looked on. He had been the first served, and while he usually tried to, at the very least, tolerate his sister's adventures in cultural understanding, this was one adventure he wasn't sure he wanted. 

"Try it Creed." she urged.

He eyed it doubtfully.

"I'd rather not."

Stoker plopped down into the chair next to him. "Then starve. More for us, right guys?" he said, clapping his hands together cheerfully. The others looked from the brown mass on their plates and back up. No one said anything except Vinnie.

"Where are the hot dogs?" he asked.

Raye was starting to look distressed, so Stoker shoveled up a good portion onto his fork and gave the others a very frightening glare, coupled with a forced smile. "You guys worked real hard and I'm sure your hungry, so _eat it._"

They ate. Reactions were mixed. Throttle took advantage of all his years of self discipline and managed to keep his features completely neutral. Modo and Rimfire tried their best to smile but were quickly losing the battle. As for Charley, she had forced it down quickly, but was turning a slight shade of green, while Vinnie simply ran for the bathroom. Stoker was trying not to join him. Creed's features were set in a slight scowl as he finished chewing and with considerable effort, eventually swallowed.

Raye looked at them one by one and then hung her head.

"Is it so terrible?" she asked.

Creed put down his fork. "Beyond redemption." he reported. Stoker tried to protest, but his stomach had other plans. He ended up joining Vinnie after all.

She picked up the now empty box and studied the back. "I followed the instructions, I don't understand what went wrong."

Creed stood and began to gather the plates from the table.

"Perhaps you should remain loyal to our family recipes Raye." he advised as she continued to study the box.

Charley stood up slowly. "I'll order out." she said weakly.

"Take your time." Throttle said.

Raye opened the worn book she had brought in earlier and made an entry. "Human cuisine. More difficult than expected." she murmured.

* * *

Later in the evening, as everyone slowly recovered from their bouts of food poisoning and after Creed had finished passing out anti-nausea pills, he knocked on the door to Raye's room. Modo had insisted on her taking it, making the point 'a lady needs her privacy'. She had been very grateful.

"Raye, can I come in?"

"Yes."

He opened the door to find her staring out the window in the dark, quietly watching the city lights. He shivered at the cold coming from the open window.

"It's freezing in here." he complained. Raye looked from him to the window, and slowly closed the glass pane.

"Sorry, I didn't notice."

He shook his head ruefully. "You never do. You have to be more aware Raye, even if you do have a higher temperature than most, someday you'll freeze off a hand if your not careful."

She smiled at his old warning and looked back out the window.

"How is everyone?"

His mouth twitched. "They'll live."

"I tasted it. It was awful."

"Like I said, they will live." he said, closing the door and flipping on the light switch. "Let me take another look at your back." he said, holding up his medical bag.

"It's just a little sore." she reported as he examined the red lines against the pale skin between her shoulder blades.

"That's to be expected. There appears to be no infection, another good sign."

"Yep. They were no match for me!" she chirped, and Creed paused in his examination.

"Raye." he said quietly.

"Hmm?"

"Did..." he started, but didn't finish. After a few moments of waiting, Raye looked over her shoulder.

"Brother?"

He swallowed anxiously. "I told Charley I knew the answer to this, and I'm certain I'm the last person you want asking, but I need to know."

She looked up at him expectantly.

"Did they...do anything to you?"

She thought for a moment, somewhat confused.

"Do? They did lot's of stuff. What do you mean?"

He ran a hand through his thick hair and stared at the ceiling. "Lots of stuff." he murmured. "God's Raye, please don't make me say it." he said.

It took a few moments for his words and his actions to finally sink in. "Say it...oh, Oh! No! Ick! No! Nothing like that, absolutely not!" she exclaimed, jumping to her feet and waving her hands frantically in the air, her face turning beet red.

He let out a deep breath and collapsed on the bed, relieved. "I think you just took five years off my life." he said, smiling up at her. "I'm glad you were spared at least that."

She stopped her frantic waving and stood watching for a moment before sitting next to him. Together they watched the city lights sparkle.

"I don't want you to worry." she said eventually. "What they did hurt, and I was scared, but I'm okay. I really am. To tell the truth, I don't remember much of what happened anyway. I was drugged almost the whole time. I think...I think they were scared of me."

"Scared?"

She rested her head against his shoulder. "I suppose it shouldn't come as a surprise. Fear or anger, those seem to be the most popular emotions when people find out about me. Except you of course."

"And the ones you poisoned tonight." he added.

She started.

"Honestly? They know I'm a Loner?"

"And I don't think they care. Strange isn't it?"

"After what happened to Mom and Dad, I suppose it is."

Creed thought back fifteen years to the day when his parents were ostracized from their team of Martian rebels, from their family. For taking in Raye. For taking in a Loner. Ten years of traveling together, eating together, bleeding together, and their own people had still turned their backs when his father had refused to back down. One of the reasons he hated Raye so much when she first became a part of his family was because of that day.

But now. Now he could understand his parents choice, and why they had refused to give her up. Being a Loner simply wasn't her fault, and it wasn't wrong. Someone had to take a stand for that.

"Your life would be a lot less complicated if I wasn't around, wouldn't it?" Raye mused sleepily.

"Probably."

She yawned. "Then I guess I'll have to stay."

"I guess you will."

"Mr. Stoker said we could come live on Mars today. He said he'd find us a place to live. Isn't that nice of him?"

Creed stiffened. "I suppose so."

"Creed." she said, the drowsiness fading away.

"I don't have the energy to talk about this tonight Raye."

"You never do. Why can't we find a home? What's wrong with Mars?"

"You've never seen it. I was there just before the war started. It's a raped land, not the paradise your imagining it to be."

"Mr. Stoker says their rebuilding it, they even have rain now, and a few gardens. There's this woman called Carbine, and she's working really hard to keep Mars safe. We could help with that."

"I'm not..."

"Please Creed. Don't say no."

She looked up at him with such a hopeful expression that he couldn't get the word past his tongue. Instead he sighed and ruffled her hair as he stood.

"I'll think about it."

She turned on her most charming smile and he rolled his eyes.

"I said I'd think about it, so don't start making plans." he told her, opening the door. He paused. "Get some sleep. I'm going shopping for supplies tomorrow and your coming with me."

"Your finally releasing me?"

"If I keep you here any longer you'll turn into one of them." he said dryly, closing the door.

* * *

Collapsed in various positions on the couch, hammock, and the few chairs in the scoreboard, the biker mice, Stoker and Rimfire did their best not to move and give the pills Creed had handed out earlier time to work. Charley had already gone home, desperately wanting to get some rest on her own. Vinnie still didn't like the guy, but he had to admit, having a doctor around had it's advantages. Of course, if he hadn't been around, they wouldn't have been poisoned in the first place.

Throttle watched as Creed disappeared into Modo's room, and gave the others a slight nod. Stoker slowly sat up on the hammock and leaned forward, grimacing.

"Man, what a night." he complained. "it's like having a hangover without the happy drunk time."

Vinnie hit him in the face with a tattered couch pillow. "You don't have the right to say anything Mr. I'm-sure-your-hungry-now-eat-it. It's your fault we nearly died."

"Shut up."

"I'm just saying."

"Don't start anything Vinnie, I don't think any of us have the patience." Throttle warned. Like Creed and Modo, he hadn't been hit as hard as the others, but his stomach was still swimming laps in his gut. He looked over at Stoker. "He's going out for supplies tomorrow."

Stoker nodded and looked over to Modo's room. "He'll probably take Raye too, she's been trying to escape this place for the past three days."

"Is that a good idea? Ya gotta know them stink fish are goin' t' have bounty hunter's gunnin' for 'em." Modo put in.

Throttle shrugged. "Probably. But I'd rather face them out in the open than wait for them to eventually find their way here."

"Ya lookin' t' use the lil lady as bait? Can't say I'll go for that, and neither will her brother." Modo said with a scowl.

Stoker held up his hand.

"He never said bait big guy. But their going to find their way to her eventually, and I'd just as soon choose the grounds. Let them go tomorrow, and we'll keep tabs on them, watch for strange happenings. One good thing about Earth, you ain't human, you stand out. Not like open planets. If there's a bounty hunter out there, we'll spot 'em easy."

Rimfire sat up from where he was laying on the couch, still holding his stomach. "Miss Charley will be with them, and I'll tag along too if you want. Keep an eye out on things from their end. And Creed's not blind, he'll be keeping on alert."

Stoker snorted. "Don't I know it. Junior's on high alert even when he's here. If he's not careful, that girl's going to smack him through the roof one day for stepping on her heels one too many times."

"Lil' Miss Raye ain't like that." Modo protested.

Stoker laughed. "I wouldn't go placing any bets if I was you. You might be surprised what a lady can do if she's pushed far enough."

"Speaking from experience there coach?" Throttle asked, a grin plastered on his snout.

"Who says I'm telling you?"

"Ouch! I'd say you hit a sore spot Throttle." Vinnie smirked. "So tell us old man, was this pre or post Harley?"

Stoker quickly lost all of his joviality and leveled a stern glare at the white mouse, who was just beginning to realize what he had said.

"Watch yourself Vincent." he said slowly. Vinnie opened his mouth, but was stopped short by a stinging whip to his right shoulder by a tan tail. He looked over to Throttle, who shook his head. Throttle knew the pain caused by Harley's abduction ran deeper in Stoker than it did in Vinnie. It always tended to in those who held the greater responsibility.

Ever the peace keeper, Modo turned the attention to himself by clearing his throat.

"So, ah, if Creed's gonna be minglin' tomorrow, he's gonna need himself a helmet at least."

Stoker shook off his dark mood and looked over to Modo, nodding in agreement.

"Yeah, and a ride t' boot. I'll handle it. Still hard to believe there's a Martian out there that can't ride." he said.

"Probably not a whole lot of need for it on a ship." Throttle pointed out.

"I remember there bein' a whole lotta mice before the war that couldn't go three feet on two wheels. Still, your right coach, it's strange t' see anymore." Modo said, rubbing the back of his neck in thought. "Maybe we should teach 'im."

Stoker laughed. "Oh yeah, that would be a whole lot of fun." he said sarcastically. "Still, if we didn't kill each other first, he might just make a decent rider. He kept balanced behind me pretty good on the stink ship, and that was some hard ridin'."

"And he had Raye to hold onto too." Rimfire added.

Stoker considered for a moment, then shook his head. "If I had my way every Martian would be able to turn a three sixty in midair while bull's-eying five Plutarkians on the ground. Probably not gonna happen, but it would still be a good idea to get him riding."

He took a deep breath. "But first things first. I'll grab him a helmet from my bike tomorrow and take him wherever Charley's going. Kid," he glanced over at Rimfire, "Raye's with you. Your doing more than just tagging along. I don't care what her brother does or says, you stick to her side like glue, understand?"

Rimfire mock saluted. "Got it."

"The rest of us will be playing spy, keeping an eye out from above." he finished.

"Man, how boring! Why do I hav'ta help babysit?" Vinnie complained. Stoker threw the old pillow back in his face.

"Cause if you don't I'll tell Creed _exactly_ how you managed to to crash his ship. Don't think giving up your bed is enough to keep my mouth shut rookie." Stoker threatened, as everyone looked over to a redding Vinnie.

"You—I--you said—Arghh! Fine!"

Stoker grinned and clapped his hands together. "Wise choice." he said as Creed re-emerged from Modo's room. "Junior, perfect timing. We just planned your day for ya kid."

Creed eyed them suspiciously as he walked into the kitchen.

"My life is now complete." he muttered.

Stoker grinned from ear to ear and Creed mentally counted to ten as the graying mouse shouted out, "What, no thanks?"

_Reviews most welcome :) _


	6. Chapter 6

_Disclaimer: I do not, nor have I ever owned the Biker Mice from Mars. Truly a Shakespearean tragedy._

_A big Thank You to Ryn for the review, and to silverphyrbyrd for sticking with me on this story._

_Well, here it is. Enjoy!_

* * *

Pawnn steadily watched, as he had for the three days previous, the lighted windows of his targets newfound sanctuary. His sound bugs had been in place since he arrived and he was sure his weren't the only ones. The two bounty hunters that had arrived yesterday morning and evening were also keeping tabs on this not so hidden hideout, neither daring to make a move until their bounty was out in the open. Pawnn was keeping just as close of an eye on each of them as he was the girl.

Realistically he could have her on his ship en route to Plutark within the hour, that was not what inhibited him at the moment. Lord Livarot had given him very specific orders, orders intended more as a political move than a quick snatch and run job. Ultimately, the young girl was his goal, but before he could execute this last task, he was to make certain his competitors failed in their efforts, and by failing, revealing the ineptitude of their employer's.

As with his two previous dealings with Lord Livarot, his task was not simple. Pawnn had come to regard this as an unfortunate fact of his life. A fact he tolerated for the sake of his family.

He shifted on his feet where he was crouched on the stadium roof, pulling the most recent picture of his loved ones from an inside pocket of his hunting attire. The black bodysuit he wore was an uncomfortable contrast to the light and loose clothing he wore on his home planet. But as irritating as it was, he had to grudgingly admit that although it would be highly intolerable in his desert home, it had it's advantages in colder climates such as this one.

Taking his eyes from the windows, he allowed himself a small distraction in his family's picture. Just a few days and already he was feeling the pangs of their absence. With the exception of his required dealings with the Plutarkian noble, he normally did not find himself away from them for more than a day at a time. Such was the life of the family oriented Sakian culture. Not that he could consider himself a true Sakian. Not with the way he had sold himself out to Lord Livarot. Although his neighbors had no knowledge of his Plutarkian dealings, he still considered himself a traitor. But in the end it had come down to a choice between his family and his honor. He had sacrificed his honor.

Three precious lives spared, three jobs owed to Livarot, the Plutarkian who had once held his family's lives in his cold hands. That was the deal that had been set. He had honored it. This was the last, and he relished the thought of being free. He could go back to a simpler life and begin the long process of trying to forget his sins.

The Martians inside were discussing tomorrows plans and Pawnn quickly pulled himself back from his memories as they mentioned moving out into the city. The girl would be going out as well it seemed. This was good. No doubt one or both of his competitors would make a move for her.

He smirked ever so slightly at the irony of how their plan to keep watch so closely mirrored his own. The older one had a point, on a closed planet such as this if you didn't look like the locals, you did indeed stand out. He had the general form of these Earthians, but he had no doubt that in a line up, the violet tint of his skin and hair, as well as the silver of his eyes would draw attention. Not to mention that his ten year old son was nearly as tall as the adults of this planet. As well trained and covert as he was, in a crowd, not even he could easily disguise his height. The other two hunters were even worse off than he was. He wondered at how the Martians had managed here all this time.

Tomorrow would be fruitful. At this rate it was possible he could be heading back to his home a free Sakian by the end of the week. He sighed at the thought of being back in the arms of his wife. He took one last look at the photo and slipped it back into the thin chest pocket of his bodysuit. Now was a time to make plans.

* * *

Stoker, Charley, and Rimfire, along with their passengers pulled up to the cracked and worn curb that marked the entrance to the Meat Packer's bank. As Charley dismounted she pulled out what was left of the wad of large bills she had received a few days ago from the pawn shop, where she and Throttle had exchanged Creed's small gold pieces for cash. She counted the bills one more time and frowned.

"I still think this is more money than you need Creed. You've already paid for the major league stuff for the ship, are you sure you don't want to go back and buy back some of those gold pieces from the shop? I think you know that American cash won't help you once your out of orbit." she said.

Creed shook his head. "I used only a percentage of the emergency stash, it's fine."

Charley's frown deepened as she turned for the bank where she could exchange the large, possibly linked to organized crime, bills into smaller denominations. She hated dealing with the kind of underworld scum that had been running the pawn shop, but there were times when the free market just wouldn't cut it.

Creed smiled at her frustration. He didn't like contributing to a planet's organized crime ring anymore than she did, but sometimes you just did what you had to to get by. It was one of the ugly realities of life.

For him, at seventeen, young and idealistic, it had been a brutal lesson. Had it just been himself at that time, no doubt he would have found himself in some closed planets prison, awaiting unspeakable horrors. But he had a young child to care for. Raye had kept his idealistic side under control, and forced him to develop his practical knowledge. It was thanks to the black market that he had the freedom of his ship.

He felt a tug on his coat sleeve.

"Creed, look at that. They still have electrical conductors here."

He turned to see Raye pointing at a string of long wires that stretched down either side of the street.

"So they do."

"I love how primitive this place is."

Stoker and Creed exchanged an amused glance. During the five minutes it had taken to get to the bank, Raye had enthusiastically pointed no less than ten things in this city she thought was 'wonderful', 'cute', and her favorite word, 'primitive'. If he gave her half the chance, Creed was sure she would end up living on some remote planet with a group of pygmies on the far side of the galaxy.

Personally, he didn't think the city was so much primitive as it was unbalanced. The towering buildings of glass and the cleanliness of the obviously richer portions of the city contrasted starkly with the crumbling and dirty cement of the poorer sections. These people obviously had a great deal of technical knowledge, but like the few closed planets he had been to, it seemed they lacked the maturity to distribute it properly.

In any case, Raye was enthralled. This place was a cultural hobbyist's gold mine. He had made her keep her book at the scoreboard, but he had no doubt she was quickly filing away information as soon as it crossed her path, to be recorded later. As much as she was attempting to be discreet the people hurrying down the sidewalk still slowed down a bit and gave her a second glance as they passed. A mother and her two small children walked by and the boy pointed to their strange group.

"Mota-cycas!" he laughed, breaking free of his mothers grasp and running for the street.

"Tommy! Stay away from the street!" the woman shouted, pulling her young daughter along awkwardly as she tried to run for her son.

Raye, seizing the opportunity, jumped from the bike and stooped down to the approaching child, scooping him up. The boy froze and stared at her dumbly as the mother finally made it to the curb with her daughter in tow. Raye smiled.

"He's fast." she said.

Creed shifted uncomfortably as the young mother stared at their helmeted group, and then the fair skinned girl in sunglasses who held her son. He started to move from the seat when Stoker's arm blocked his path.

"Let's just see what happens." he said quietly. Creed didn't resist, but stayed tense as the woman continued to study his sister. He was aware that there was a certain level of strangeness that hovered around Raye. People reacted to it differently. Sometimes it was beneficial to her, but many times it was not. It depended on the person.

It was the child who broke the tension. He took a handful of Raye's white hair and tugged on it playfully.

"Awld lady hair! Look mama, awld lady hair!" he cried happily. His mother's expression turned from suspicion to embarrassment, gingerly taking her son from Raye's arms.

"I'm so sorry." she said turning to her son, who was reaching for Raye's hair. "Tommy, be nice." she scolded.

"Awld lady hair!" he squealed, still reaching. The woman was turning red but Raye was laughing as she held out a portion of long hair to him.

"Do you like it?" she asked. The boy nodded and grabbed a hold of the hair she offered. "Me too."

Creed sighed and his muscles relaxed as Raye began a friendly exchange with the mother and children.

"Why does she do this to me?" he muttered, resisting the urge to pull off his helmet and rub his aching head. Stoker chuckled.

"You need to relax junior. Let go a little."

A few minutes later the small family was headed down the street and Raye returned to the seat behind Rimfire, studying a small piece of paper in her hand.

Rimfire glanced back.

"What's that?" he asked, trying to read the scrawled writing upside down.

Raye held it out to him. "Something called a phone number. Miss Christina told me to contact her. She needs someone to look after her children."

Creed bolted upright. "Raye!"

She look over at him impishly. "What? I thought it would be rude if I gave it back."

Creed glared at her before turning to Stoker. "This is precisely why I cannot relax."

Charley choose that moment to emerge from the bank, a thick cash envelope in hand. She unceremoniously waved it in Creed's face.

"You'd better appreciate this. The bank manager was looking at me like I was Al Capone himself. You have no idea how creative I had to get in order to explain that wad of cash."

Creed drew a blank. "Al Capone?"

"He was a crime lord in this city a long time ago." Raye offered, watching the people pass by.

Stoker grinned. Somebody had been watching the history channel again.

"I remember that, he had the lamest nickname too. Scarface right?" Rimfire added, looking back at Raye. "Even I could do better than that."

She thought for a moment.

"Crime bosses don't seem to be all that creative. That was Lukio's name back on the Raken colonies, remember?" she said, looking over to Creed, who took the envelope from Charley's hand with a grateful smile before turning to her.

"I remember. No more television Raye. Your memorizing useless facts again."

"At least I'm making the effort."

"There are better things for you to do with your time."

"Why do you always have to act so old?"

Stoker watched the exchange with growing amusement. At that moment, if his memory was erased and he knew nothing about them whatsoever, this conversation alone would have told him they were, against all odds, related. He silently cheered the youngest on. If there was anyone who was capable of getting under Creed's fur, it was her.

Rimfire sat on the sideline, chin propped up on a gloved hand just below his helmet, his eyes ping-ponging from one arguing sibling to other. It was, in an odd sort of way, making him nostalgic. His own argument's with his twin looked a lot like this. Well, except sometimes there were a few blows thrown, and not by him. Primer usually meant well, she just had a wicked temper at times.

Okay, so perhaps it wasn't so nostalgic.

"Hey, as entertaining as this is, I don't suppose you guys could get a move on anytime soon?" Throttle's voice sounded in their helmets.

"Yeah, we're freezin' our tails off up here so you guys can have your shopping time. So shop!" Vinnie added.

Creed and Raye shared a disconcerted glance as Stoker covertly searched the buildings' rooftops.

"You boys are doing a good job of staying hidden, where are ya?" he asked.

"Behind you, gray building with the blue flagpole." Throttle answered.

"Blue...oh, gotcha. I'll drop junior here off at this Manuelo guy's store and meet up with you boys on the backside of the building."

"Why don't you go ahead Stoker, Manuelo's isn't too far from here, we'll walk." Charley said, hanging her helmet in her bike's side storage compartment.

Stoker took a quick glance around the group before giving an already moving Creed a light shove to the shoulder. "Looks like the free lunch is over kid, go get some exercise."

* * *

Walking a few paces behind Charley, Creed kept one eye peeled for anyone who seemed suspicious. Of course, at the moment, everyone looked suspicious to him because almost everyone he passed was taking at least a second glance at their odd little party. If he were to sit down and think about it, it made sense that they would be attracting extra attention, but at the moment it was simply putting him in a bad mood.

At his side Raye had latched herself onto his arm, staring at buildings, people, animals, street signs, pretty much anything that came into her scope of vision. Occasionally she would pull him off course to get a closer look at a store front, or reach down to try to pet some strange animal. She seemed to be distracted every few meters, but Charley and Rimfire didn't seem to mind so he didn't try to steer her away.

Annoying as her curiosity could be at times, it made him proud in it's own way. Her mind was active, and her enthusiasm translated over into her medical training as well. The spirited way she looked at things had made him laugh on more than one occasion as he tutored her in his field of expertise. Almost everything had a entertaining quality in her eyes, which gave a whole new spin to say...the digestive systems of Alrunian sea mammal's.

"Creed, an open market! They have open markets here! Can I have some money?"

She tugged on his arm, trying to steer him towards the small stalls that lined either side of the narrow street. Behind them, Charley stood in front of a glass door that was labeled "Manuelo's All Purpose" and waited. Creed ignored Raye for the moment and looked over at her.

"I take it this is our destination?" he asked. Charley smiled and motioned behind her.

"Gotta love Manuelo. He'll have most of what you need in terms of general supplies. And what he doesn't, he can find. The guys helped him out in a big way when they first came here. You'll have to stop him from giving you the entire store once he knows your a friend of theirs, believe me."

Creed cracked a wry grin. "Friend?"

"Ouch, stab me through the heart why don'tcha?" Stoker crackled through his helmet.

Creed made to move to the store when he realized the familiar weight of Raye's arm was missing from his own. He jerked his head around rapidly, scanning the crowd that was slowly migrating for the open market. He found her almost immediately, bent over a small stall that was advertising some kind of steaming brown liquid, Rimfire standing at her side.

He let out a small breath of relief.

"Raye, let's go." he called and she looked back.

"You go on ahead, I'll wait out here for you." She replied, giving him a little wave.

"Of course you will." he said, walking over and pushing her to Manuelo's. She turned out of his grasp and took his arm, looking up at him with big eyes. He knew that look all to well, she used it to it's full extent when she wanted to do something she knew he wouldn't like. Which definitely would include her being out of his sight. He looked down at her.

"No."

"Please? I'll be careful I promise. And Rimfire said he'd come with me, so I won't be alone." she added.

Perfect, she had already thought ahead.

Creed glared up at Rimfire who smiled warily and shrugged his shoulders. Charley came up to them, looking from one to the other and then to the market.

"You know, I think this is the last market of the season, it would be a shame to miss it." she commented lightly. "There's a lot of good stuff that gets sold at these things, maybe she can find something you could use while we're in the store."

Creed glanced back at Charley as Raye's face lit up in gratitude.

"You're not helping." he said.

"Remember what I said about learning to relax junior?" Stoker added through his helmet. "Don't worry, we'll keep an eye on the children."

Rimfire winced. Children? He was twenty for god's sake and despite what the others thought, Raye couldn't be less than sixteen.

Creed looked from Raye to Charley, to a somewhat fuming Rimfire and then to the top of the five story apartment building on the other side of the street where he was sure the others were now parked. Outnumbered. He sighed, pulled a few bills from the envelope inside his coat and handed them to his sister.

"Be careful." he said, then gave Rimfire a look that told him he better keep alert if he valued his life. The young mouse gave a nervous nod of his head as Raye snagged his hand and tugged him towards the mass of people milling from one stand to the other.

"Don't eat anything questionable!" he shouted as she waved back at him and disappeared into the throng with Rimfire in tow.

Charley came up beside him as he stared into the crowd.

"I'm sure she'll be fine." she assured him as he gave one last look and followed her into Manuelo's.

* * *

"Well, I have to tell ya, this is becoming more difficult than I thought it would." Throttle commented, leaning forward on his bike as Rimfire and Raye moved behind yet another over sized display sign in the crowded market below.

"Them's the breaks." Stoker shrugged. "Rimfire, where are you kid?"

"Green sign with the yellow fruit."

"See the sign, don't see you."

A gloved hand waved above the fruit advertisement shortly before a familiar white head milled back into their scope of vision. The hand dropped and fell to the side of the tall helmeted biker now in the center of the street.

"How's it looking down there?" Throttle asked. "Anything out the ordinary?"

"Define ordinary. This place is off the charts for me. And by the way, what you said about glue coach? I think I'm going to need something more along the lines of rubber cement. Raye's all over the place down here." Rimfire said as he weaved through the people to Raye's side, purposefully taking her hand so she couldn't escape again.

"Stop whining kid. Your on your own in an exotic city with a pretty girl, call it a date." Stoker said.

Rimfire rolled his eyes to the heavens. Yeah, a date with your closest family and friends along for the ride and a girl who was more interested in local bartering customs than anything else. Not to mention the whole 'she might get kidnapped and I might get shot by bounty hunters and/or her overprotective brother' dynamic. Fun times.

* * *

From inside the shop Charley paused in her conversation with Manuelo and cast an exasperated glance at the tall mouse who instead of finding the supplies he needed, was now beginning to wander slowly through the store, moving suspiciously closer to the door. She excused herself as her shorter friend grinned, all to aware of her frustrations with Martian males in general, and watched as she marched over to Creed's side. When he didn't acknowledge her she quickly took a generous pinch of the dark fur on the back of his neck and gave it a solid tug.

"Ow!" he yelped, holding his neck and turning to her. Through the helmet Manuelo could see the red eyes, but not the water that was clouding them. Charley glared up at mouse, hands on hips, assuming the universally recognized stance of annoyance.

"Snap out of it." she ordered.

Creed continued to rub the back of his neck, and glanced out the storefront window. Charley allowed herself a deep sigh.

"You know, I think Stoker's right on this one, you need to relax Creed." she declared. When he didn't respond she took his arm and dragged him over to the counter to join Manuelo.

"Would you like a root beer senor?"

"No, thank you."

"A mouse who doesn't like root beer and has manners, I never thought I'd live to see the day." Manuelo said, grinning over at Charley.

"Neither did the guys. Creed's a bit of an oddity it seems." Charley said, winking.

Creed pulled himself out of his thoughts and gave Charley an annoyed look.

"An oddity, thank you. I feel much more comfortable now."

"I never said it was a bad thing. Manuelo, our new friend here is in need of some serious distraction. Do you think you could manage some?"

Manuelo thought for a moment, walked to the door and turned the sign to closed then motioned to a door in the back of the store.

"My oddities live back here." he said with a wink as they came into a large living room where three young children were bent over a board game, fighting playfully over the next move. They looked up and fell silent as their father entered. They looked from him to Charley and then to the tall man next to her. They knew Charley, and they knew her friends, the nice mice who had rescued their father three years ago. Maria, the youngest at five, walked up to the tall stranger and stared at him with wide eyes.

"Are you a mouse too?"

Creed backed up a step and looked from Charley to the little girl.

"I...well..."

The girl looked to Charley who gave her a small nod of the head. She laughed in delight and attached herself to Creed's leg.

"Mouse, Mouse!" she yelled happily as her two brothers broke out into large grins and came running. The only mice they knew were Throttle, Modo, and Vinnie and they had come to equate the Martians with a good round of roughhousing. An unprepared Creed fell to ground as the children threw themselves against him.

Charley dusted her hands of the situation as she smiled over at Manuelo.

"Well, that should keep him occupied for a while, what do you say we shop for Creed over a root beer?"

Manuelo smiled and motioned to the door that led back into the store.

"After you senorita." he said.

"Charley, please wait, I...ooff!" Creed gasped as Charley and Manuelo turned in the doorway. Charley tried not to laugh at the undignified expression on Creed face as one of the boys pried the helmet from his head.

"Mouse! I knew it, all of Miss Charley's friends are mice!" the boy shouted.

Charley gave him a small wave goodbye. "Manuelo and I will find your supplies for you. Stay here and keep the kids company for us."

"I can't stay here..."

"Have fun."

"Don't hurt him my little monsters." Manuelo said as he followed Charley.

"We won't papa!" they chorused and then turned to each other.

"We never hurt the guys."

"But this one is a lot wimpier. See? Feel his arms."

"What are you...ouch! Release my tail immediately!"

"Your right, but he's still a Martian right? All Martians are strong." came Maria's squeaky voice.

"Yeah! Get im!"

Manuelo closed the door and looked over at Charley who gave him a thumbs up.

"There's nothing like kids to take even the most serious of people's minds off a problem. Thanks."

"My wife and I should be thanking you. We'll have no trouble getting them to bed tonight. Now, let's see what I can find on that list you have."

Charley exchanged the white paper for the root beer he offered and glanced out the window as she fingered the earring of her right ear.

"Mothering hen taken out of the equation guys. It's all up to you now." she said quietly.

"Thanks darlin', because I think we've spotted our first hunter." Stoker responded.

Five stories above the crowds below, Modo frowned behind his helmet.

"I thought we weren't gonna use 'er as bait." he growled.

"We're not. We're just setting our own terms is all." Stoker answered, keeping his eyes on his target below, a large figure hunched under a tattered blanket, apparently trying to pass for a street bum.

* * *

From his perch atop a nearby residential building, Pawnn studied the same hunched figure. It was the second of the two hunters who had come to Earth, a large and red scaled Ti'lan with a prominent overbite. He had met this one before. Deceptive creature.

A familiar beeping sounded at his belt and he pulled the small communicator out. Only one had the ability to contact him on this line.

"Lord Livarot." he answered.

"Status report." the Plutarkian demanded impatiently.

"Stable. Bleu's hunter is close to making his move now."

"He must not succeed."

"Yes."

"And the project must remain unharmed."

"I have studied the files you sent me my Lord. She will be returned to you whole."

"See to it she is."

_Review most welcome :)_


	7. Chapter 7

_Disclaimer: I do not, nor have I ever owned the Biker Mice from Mars. Such pain from this knowledge..._

_THANK YOU to silverphyrbyrd for the input on this chapter. Thanks for helping me out, I really appritiated it! Gave me a couple of idea's too._

_Hello again to Ryn...yeah, I just couldn't resist getting Manuelo in there somehow. Personally I think he should have been a reoccurring minor character in the show, but hey, I didn't write the thing. And maybe he was, I never got to see all of the shows in the second and third seasons. _

_Greetings to you imcristiel. Umm...this is going to sound like a completely ignorant question, but, how exactly do I do that? Computer's and I are still working on our relationship you see. It took me forever to finally figure out how to post things here. Would you have the time to give me a few pointers? Is it anything like posting to fanfiction?_

_Yes, go ahead, tease the girl who can't seem to grasp the machines the rest of her generation figured out years ago. :)_

_Well, without further ado, here you go everyone. Enjoy!_

* * *

Crouched under a torn and lice-ridden blanket, the Ti'lan hunter Ranor shifted his weight from side to side, balancing on his tail and trying to give the cramped muscles of his legs a bit of relief. Those of his race were famous for their endurance, but this job was beginning to test his reserves. The mistake was his for choosing such an uncomfortable position in which to wait for his target, but on the other hand, the options had been limited.

He had to get close to her, which meant he had to find a way into this crowd of humans. Humans who he was sure would not react well to a walking, talking, red scaled Ti'lan who resembled some of the monsters from their old horror movies. He had done the research, he knew what their first thought would be, and it would not be to form a welcoming party.

So here he was. Squatting, irritated, and if the bounty was not so high, ready to give his target a few blows for taking her damn precious time getting to him. However, the bounty was high, and the reward he would receive for bringing her in would insure that he would be able to live a more than comfortable life almost anywhere he liked. He was looking forward to purchasing a few slaves and living luxury for a change.

With that last thought running through his head like a mantra, he shifted once more and pulled the blanket a little tighter against his head and broad shoulders. He watched as his target walked by a small booth and then stopped as a small elderly human motioned her over. She turned and walked over, her ever-present helmeted companion following her like a shadow.

Damn.

He waited, trying to keep his anger from manifesting itself into an audible growl. She would make it past him eventually. And while he was not allowed to hurt her, he sure as hell was going to find a way to get a few blows in on her friend.

* * *

On the whole, Rimfire generally considered himself to be a tolerant individual. If you wanted to get by in the galaxy you just had to be flexible and admit you didn't understand the universe as much as you would like to. There were things you couldn't explain, and there were things you just didn't know. He could accept this. 

What he couldn't accept at the moment was that the old man trying to sell to him and Raye a bottle of foul smelling swamp water along with a set of four 'magnetically and spiritually enhanced' bracelet's, had the power cure to cancer. And arthritis. Oh, wait, he had just thrown in the common cold as an added bonus.

He leaned over Raye's shoulder. "Come on, let's go."

She smiled politely as the man in front of her continued to ramble. "Not just yet." she whispered.

"The guy's a quack!" he hissed.

"But he's an excited quack. Look how happy he is."

"That's because he's insane."

"Just give him one more minute. I think he's ran out of things to cure. Then I'll go, I promise."

Rimfire sighed and tugged at the small ponytail at the base of his helmet in frustration. So much for being the guard in charge. Of course, if you hung out with Creed your entire life...

"But Miss, how could you say no to such an amazing product?" The small man at the booth looked genuinely disappointed as Raye turned to leave. She turned and gave him an apologetic smile.

"I'm sorry, but my brother is sensitive to strong odors. Besides, he's a doctor, it would put us out of business to have such an incredible medicine along. We'd never have patients again and then..." she leaned in close, "we'd both starve to death."

Rimfire gave her a perplexed look as her voice jumped up a couple of notch's, almost as if she were upset. He was about to say something when he caught the small twitch at the corner of her mouth.

"Well, I think that's a little bit extreme but..." the old man said hesitantly.

"I don't do well without food. Have a sense of compassion please, don't make me take that back to him!" she squeaked, hiding her head in her hands. Rimfire rolled his eyes. The shopkeeper, not knowing what to do with a potentially hysterical girl backed off.

"Of...of course. I'm sorry, you go ahead, I wouldn't want you to miss the rest of the market. It's the last one you know." he said, giving her an tentative pat on the back. She shook her head and gave him a brave smile.

"Go on now." he said, practically pushing her towards Rimfire. She waved goodbye as Rimfire took her hand and started weaving through the crowd again.

"You need acting classes." he commented, once they were out of earshot.

She grinned, but said nothing.

"Still, don't you think that was a bit much?" he asked when his ribbing failed to provoke the response he had been expecting. Mainly, a slug to the shoulder.

Pausing, she looked back at the shopkeeper, who was already attempting to gather in some more potential buyers. "You think so?"

"You did encourage the guy. And now he thinks he has a one-up on doctors. He'll never let that drop."

She stopped to look at a display of handmade pottery and ran her fingers over the rim of one of the clay bowls thoughtfully.

"I suppose..." she turned to look back at the old man. "but look at him. He's so enthusiastic. He actually thinks he's doing something to make the world a better place." She looked down at the bowl again. "I don't want to be the person to take that away."

Rimfire glanced back at the animated shopkeeper speculatively. "But he's living a delusion."

"But what harm is it doing?"

"Still a lie."

"It's the truth to him."

Rimfire frowned. He wasn't sure he could agree with her train of thought. But he couldn't refute it at the moment either.

"I hope your not always this trusting. It could get you into a lot of trouble you know." he said instead, picking up the bowl she had just abandoned, turning it over in his hands carelessly, much to anxiety of the woman running the stand.

Raye smiled ruefully. "Well, I'd say it already has..."

He thought back to one of the very few so-called conversations he and Creed had had on the trip to Earth. "Alston?" he ventured.

She studied the pottery for a few moments, and then instead of answering, she turned and took the bowl from him, setting it down on the table and taking his hand again.

"I'm hungry, let's go find where all those smells are coming from." she said cheerfully. She pulled him into the street once more as he plowed along behind, trying to understand both the conversation and her sudden need for food.

* * *

Ranor ground his sharp teeth in frustration as the girl moved not closer to him, but further away, weaving through the crowd towards the booths selling hot food at the other end of the street. His target was not cooperating with his plans, and he was all too aware that he was not the only hunter out for her. This day was probably his best, if not only, chance to get a hold of her. 

He eyed a dilapidated warehouse towering behind the booths advertising various forms of human cuisine and frowned. Not as close as he would like, but inside the building he could at least shed this pathetic disguise and work more freely. The warehouse ran the entire length of the block and would provide him with a better cover. Slowly he raised himself enough to shuffle into the alley behind him. Once out of the crowd he shed the blanket and utilized the strong muscles of his aching legs to sprint through the alley, running behind the tall apartment buildings to the warehouse.

* * *

Stoker shifted suddenly on his bike as the dingy figure shrank back into the shadow of the alley below. 

"Rimfire, keep your eyes open kid, our man just put a move on." he said, quickly scanning the neighboring buildings for any kind of movement between them.

Down below, waiting for Raye to purchase food from a vendor, Rimfire tensed.

"You found one? Where?" he asked quietly.

"Behind you, about two blocks. Don't have a tag on him now though." Throttle answered, zeroing in with his helmet to the apartment buildings the figure had disappeared behind.

"Do you at least have an ID on him?" Rimfire asked, scanning the crowd nervously. Unconsciously, he had taken a step closer to Raye, now standing almost directly behind her.

"Negative." Stoker said. "I could tell you to look for a guy wrapped in a blanket, but the odds are against him using it again and I couldn't get a look at his face."

Rimfire took a deep breath.

"Okay, We'll start moving out of here."

"Stay where you are." Stoker said suddenly. Throttle and the others looked over in surprise as Rimfire froze in place.

"Say again coach?"

"Don't make any sudden moves kid. Do that and our hunter will react, and I don't think he'll care who gets in the way down there. Stay put and act clueless for a while. We're coming to you."

"But..."

"That's an order."

* * *

Pawnn jumped from his perch moments before the Martians moved from their own, moving quickly and quietly from building to building, keeping out of sight. It seemed the Ti'lan was becoming impatient. He peered down the crumbling side of the building he had just come to and caught a flash of red tail disappear inside. Moving to the opposite side of the roof, he looked down to see a row of steaming and smoking food stands stretching the length of the building. 

Below, holding two steaming bowls of vegetables, stood the girl. He frowned and began to search the roof for a way in.

* * *

Inside the warehouse, Ranon moved to the dingy windows, clearing one enough with his hand to peer outside. He was studying the crowd outside when he heard a slight shuffle to his right and looked down to discover one of the homeless people he had been trying to imitate earlier. The ragged human lifted himself out of his blankets and peered up at the red scaled Ti'lan in a drunken haze that soon turned dead-sober. 

Ranor watched as the man's grizzled face shifted from confusion to outright terror and he tensed. If the man were to scream it would almost certainly be heard through the thin and broken panes of glass of the building, drawing attention he couldn't afford. He quickly raised his fist and slammed it into the man's head before he could utter a sound, a blow that wrenched his neck well past it's acceptable range of motion. He heard the sharp snap of breaking bone as the drunk fell against the cement wall, head lolling.

Dead. He studied the crumpled figure at his feet for a moment. Not what he had intended, but at least it would insure no interference for the task ahead. He turned his attention back to the windows, searching.

A few seconds passed before he broke into a grotesque grin. There they were.

* * *

Raye paid and thanked the woman and turned to hand Rimfire his food. 

"Here you go." she said, pushing the bowl towards him. He took it distractedly, neither looking at it or moving to take the two small sticks that served as eating utensils. He was still, but behind the shield of his helmet his eyes were rapidly dashing from side to side, searching the crowd.

Raye watched him for a moment before an internal alarm went off. She forgot about her lunch.

"What is it?" she asked quietly. When he didn't respond even more alarms went off, all of them communicating the same message: Something is wrong.

Without warning he took her hand in an almost crushing grip and pulled her forward, hard enough for her to lose her stability for a moment and bump against his side. The plastic bowl in her hand toppled over, spilling it's contents to the ground in front of the booth as the vendor scowled and began scolding them in broken English. Raye hastily apologized and began to stoop down to clean the mess up when Rimfire wrapped his tail around her waist, his arm around her shoulders and forcibly steered her away from the irate woman.

"Rimfire, what is..." she began, but stopped as he shoved his bowl of vegetables into her hands.

"Eat this and act normal." he said quietly, as his tail unwound itself from her waist. His arm however, stayed put as he guided them both along the row of vendors.

"Kid, what do you think your doing? Stay where you ar..." he heard Stoker growl before he turned the intercom in his helmet off.

Something was very wrong. Raye felt as though her pulse was trying to fly out of her skin, but she attempted to eat all the same, knowing from past experience when someone gave you an order in the way Rimfire had, the best you could do was shut up and follow along until you got the information you needed.

"I think a bounty hunter has found you." He said eventually, purposely keeping his voice low and his pace even, trying to keep himself from grabbing Raye and running for the nearest cover, which was what all of his battle experience was screaming for him to do at the moment.

Raye's eye's widened behind her sunglasses as her grip on her bowl tightened. Hunters. Flashbacks of Alston began rampaging through her head. Memories she didn't know she had. A musty room, a smothering hand, stinging in her neck, the defeated face of a familiar old woman looking down at her. Darkness.

"Where?" she forced the word out, keeping her eyes glued to the bowl but unable to eat. She fought hard against becoming immobile.

"I don't know. But I don't care what the coach says at the moment, we're getting out of here."

She nodded and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, trying to ignore the unexpected panic that coursed through her like a heat wave. Darkness, needles, the white lab coats, the nakedness, the fear...no! She attempted to focus on something else but the suppressed memories came flooding back, pushing her more off balance with each passing second.

Rimfire felt her waver and wrapped his tail around her waist again, supporting her with it, trying to keep her upright. If she passed out it was going to make this ten times harder.

"Keep moving, were almost out of this." he said, his eyes moving from one passerby to another, his left hand toying with the laser pistol inside his jacket. Damn, this block was too long.

* * *

Stoker swore repeatedly under his breath as he and Throttle moved at an almost painfully slow rate through the crowds, having left their bikes behind to avoid suspicion from the hunter who could be anywhere by this point. Little by little they came closer to the end of the block, where Rimfire and Raye were supposed to be waiting. 

They weren't there, and Rimfire was still off the airways.

Damn kid.

* * *

Walking slowly down the warehouse floor, Ranon let out small chuckle. If they only knew he was walking practically beside them on the other side of the wall, keeping an even pace as they made their way down the block in front of his building. 

Casually, he unclipped a small but powerful smoke grenade from his belt as he came closer to a crumbling section of wall a few feet ahead, a hole large enough for him to slip his bulk through. From the other side of his belt he unclipped a specially fitted face mask, sliding it on before lobbing the grenade out into the street.

* * *

The screams began piercing the air the second the explosion sounded and the smoke filled the market. Mass chaos hit. People pushed and pulled, barreling into Rimfire and Raye, nearly knocking them down in their confusion and attempts to find safety. 

Rimfire planted his feet and tightened his grip on Raye, but it did him little good as the red flash of a huge fist came out of no where, hitting his arm with the force of a pile driver. Another slammed into his left arm and sent the laser pistol flying into crowd. He crumpled to the ground with a dislocated left shoulder as Raye attempted to shout out his name, only to be stopped by a coughing fit brought on by the thick smoke in the air.

Another crushing blow came to his ribs, leaving him gasping for air. He turned his head painfully, trying, without success, to identify his attacker. The smoke was too dense. A rough hand grabbed his jacket and threw him over a massive shoulder. He was soon joined by a struggling Raye, who looked over at him from their captors' opposite shoulder with wide golden eyes, the sunglasses that had served to hide them crushed somewhere on the street. He had the presence of mind to reach up with his good arm and push the small button that re-connected him to the guys before passing out.

* * *

Creed had practically thrown the children from him the moment the screaming in the streets began, grabbing his helmet and running with Charley from Manuelo's. He hoped he hadn't injured them in his haste, but the only thing he could think about was a certain petite teenager, caught out there among the screams. Charley was knocked hard against him as they exited the store, and as he caught her he moved them against the storefront window to avoid the people barreling down the street. 

Charley regained her balance quickly and was listening to the guys via her right earring, the crease in her forehead becoming deeper the longer she listened. Creed remembered why he had grabbed his helmet in the first place and slammed it painfully over his head.

Stoker's voice blared in his ears.

"Damn kid! Throttle, you got anything?"

"Negative. Too many people. Modo, Vinnie, what are you guys seeing from up there?"

"I'll tell you what I see, smoke, and lots of it. I can't...Damn! Throttle watch out, human boulder rollin' your way!" Vinnie shouted.

There came the painful sound of air rushing from deflated lungs, and then coughing.

"Kid, you okay?"

"Fine." Throttle wheezed. "I need my bike. Get down here girl, your man is taking a beating without you."

"That goes for you too!" Stoker shouted to his own bike.

Creed watched as two motorcycles tore out of a nearby alleyway, barely missing fleeing civilians as they attempted to make it down the narrow street to their owners. Knowing no better way to get to where he needed to be, he made a desperate dash out into the street, ignoring Charley's calls to wait, pushing his way across and jumping onto Stoker's ride as it crossed his path. It gave an annoyed beep and tried to shake him off, but Creed clung to the handle bars. He kicked it's side with his foot.

"I'm a doctor, can you think of someone better to assist them?" he shouted in frustration. The bike seemed unable to answer the question and stopped fighting.

"Stoker, where's Raye?" he shouted as the bikes weaved precariously through the crowd.

There was a long pause. Creed ground his teeth. He should have listened to his instincts. He should have never left her in their hands.

"Stoker!"

"We're looking junior! Believe me, we're looking!" Stoker finally answered.

Creed could hear the frustration in his voice and tightened his grip on the handlebars until his hands ached. They had no idea. Which meant he had no information to go on whatsoever.

"I'm coming to you. Find her!" he shouted before Stoker's bike lurched beneath him, jumping a series of broken vendor booths. Creed clamped his legs on the bike as tightly as he could and prayed to the god he didn't believe existed for Raye to be safe.

_Reviews most welcome :)_


	8. Chapter 8

_I do not, nor have I ever, owned the Biker Mice from Mars. Most disheartening._

_Greetings! Okay, first I would like to apologise for my lateness in getting this chapter up. I moved, I got sick, I became lazy. Sorry!_

_Thanks again to silverphyrbyrd, Ryn, and Imcristiel. Oh, and Imcristiel, I swear I'm going to get this on red planet soon. Thanks for the tip :)_

_So here it is. Enjoy._

* * *

Rimfire regained consciousness to the steady beat of the the painful throbbing in his shoulder and a dull ache from his ribs. He was sprawled out on his back against a hard and cold cement floor, but his head was propped up against something soft. It was then he realized he was missing his helmet. 

Opening his eyes, he came face to face with Raye, who cradled his head in her lap. A soon as she saw he was awake, she made a quick sushing motion with her finger and glanced pointedly at a large figure with a thick red tail crouched about thirty feet away, back turned, apparently fiddling with something against the wall.

"Close your eyes, he's been waiting for you to wake up, and I don't think that's a good thing." she whispered. Confused, but wanting to buy some time, he obeyed.

"Are you okay?" he whispered back, keeping his voice as low as possible. He felt her shift slightly beneath him.

"Scared nearly out of my wits, but he hasn't hurt me. I don't know why."

"Be glad your shoulder is still where it's supposed to be. Where's my helmet?" he asked.

"He tore it off you the moment he tossed us in here. He threw it. I'm not sure where." she answered.

He winced at the news, feeling like an idiot. What in the hell had he been thinking? You never cut off communication with your comrades, how many times had Stoker and Carbine drilled that into his head? Apparently he needed to go back to the novice squad, because in a moment of stupid frustration he had tossed that all important tenant out the window.

His left shoulder shifted against the concrete, and before he could stop it, a sharp hiss of pain escaped his lips and his eyes flew wide open in shock. The figure facing the wall cocked its' head slightly to the side before standing and turning in a surprisingly fluid motion. The creature that now faced them was decidedly reptilian, with a long, broad snout, dull red scales, and a hulking body that stood close to seven feet. It smiled. It was not a pleasant smile.

"Finally awake hmnn? I've been waiting." he said as he began to slowly walk towards them, dragging a lumpy bundle covered with a worn blanket behind him. Rimfire tensed, as did Raye, who pressed her fingers into the base of his neck.

"It seems to be the theme of my day. Waiting, that is. Maybe the god's are trying to teach me some kind of lesson." he continued, coming to a stop above them. Then, quick as a snake, he reached out and grabbed both Rimfire and Raye's chins with his large hands, jerking their heads to meet his dark eyes.

"I've never been much of a quick learner." he snarled. He jerked Raye's head a little higher, forcing her to raise herself to her knees. Rimfire felt another stab of pain as his shoulder hit the ground, but his head stayed stationary in the reptilians grip.

"And I hate waiting. You've put me through enough of it today girl. Unfortunately, your off limits. There's a handsome bounty on you, and if you get hurt, I don't get paid."

Raye stared into his black eyes quietly, not daring to move, and unsure of what to do. Their captor slowly loosened his grip and turned a hungry eye to Rimfire.

"But Boss Bleu never put any restrictions on him. So I think since we're all here, you and I should get to know each other boy."

Raye felt a hard lump of fear settle in her chest as the red Hunter tossed her to the side and bent over her friend, picking him up by the lapels of his jacket. Rimfire gritted his teeth and hissed as his shoulder was jostled, sending yet another wave of pain coursing through his body.

"Let's start with introductions." He pulled Rimfire a little closer. "I started out as Janon. A name that translated as 'deliverer' was far to soft for my tastes, so I renamed myself Ranon, or 'enforcer'." He plunged a heavy fist into Rimfire's stomach, launching him back a few feet, and sending him crashing painfully to the dust laden floor.

"More appropriate, don't you think?"

Raye cringed as Rimfire curled into a fetal position on the floor, gasping for breath and gripping his arm. Aware that her chances of ever causing an iota of harm to this hulking giant was next to zero, but feeling guilty for doing nothing, she pushed herself to her feet and ran over to Rimfire. Curling her body over his own in a futile attempt to protect, she turned pleading eyes on their attacker.

"Stop it! You came for me, didn't you? Why is this necessary?" Her voice was much softer than she intended it to be and as Ranon came to a halt above her he gave what she could only assume was a grin.

"Because it's fun!" he said, reaching out and pulling her closer by her hair. "I can't do to you what I'd like, so he's the substitute." He tossed her again, then grabbed Rimfire by his dust littered hair and put him in a bone crushing head lock. He held that position for a moment and looked back at her thoughtfully.

"If you think of it that way, this is your fault isn't it? He'd never be in this mess if it wasn't for you. In fact, I'd be willing to bet you've been the source of a lot of people's problem's."

Raye froze as the truth of the words settled into her mind. Ranon grinned again as Rimfire struggled against his thick arms.

"They say Loner's are cursed you know. People who get involved with them never have good lives." he continued, dragging a fighting Rimfire across the floor to the blanket clad bundle he had dropped earlier.

Raye's mind had left the rest of her in the dust as it ran back to the memories of people who had discovered her origins through the years. Unnatural, sin against creation, misfortune's child, all words that had been used to describe her at one time or another. Creed had waved them off, telling her to ignore the ignorant masses. That there was nothing wrong with her. She had smiled and agreed, even laughed, but late at night she would sometimes lie awake and wonder if there was truth to the words. She had certainly brought her brother more than his fair share of troubles.

"Your kind brings bad luck girl, everyone knows that."

She winced painfully, the words twisting in her like a knife.

Rimfire managed to free his throat enough to suck in some air. "Don't listen to him Raye, he's just playing with...ugghh!" Ranor tightened his grip again and kneed him in the kidney's.

Rimfire swore with his limited air supply as his knees buckled. Satisfied that he was properly immobilized for the moment, Ranor threw him to the ground behind him, turning his attention to Raye. As Rimfire rolled on his side he was met with the beautiful sight of his helmet, lying a few meters away. Glancing behind him, making sure Ranor wasn't paying attention, he started inching slowly towards his helmet. All he had to do was get a hold of the guys.

* * *

Modo felt as though his frustration was going to eat him alive. He and Vinnie had joined Stoker and Throttle below, and Creed had pulled up on Stoker's bike a moment later, but they still could find no sign of his nephew and lil' Miss Raye. Rimfire's intercom had been turned back on, but there had been no communication from him in the five minutes since. He was starting to fear the worse. 

People were still in the market, milling in a kind of daze at this point, many of them obviously shopkeepers who had come back to assess the damage done to their stands. Creed didn't bother to apologize as he pushed them from his path, searching for some sign of his sister. Each minute was starting to feel like an hour, but he continued on, knowing that she was here somewhere.

The connection between him and her, whether it was mental, emotional, or otherwise, was very real. A constant lingering presence in the back of his mind. Perhaps it couldn't lead him to her, but he was certain it he would know if she were to be...

He didn't finish the thought, and continued searching.

* * *

From the rafters of the warehouse, Pawnn watched silently as the Ti'lan moved closer to the girl below. This was not proceeding as he hoped it would. Ranor was going to push her too far. 

He had read the files Livarot had sent, and had studied them well. He had been disturbed. The girl was a frightening force, a creator of energy, a living powerhouse.

A god unaware of her heritage.

The Plutarkian's were fools.

To make such a being, to create something with so much power, then to give it a living, breathing form. To make it into a person. Foolishness. People were unpredictable and uncontrollable, regardless of the amount of drugs you loaded into them.

To create something simply to prove you could, or worse, for a political gain. Livarot was a devil.

Which made him the devil's advocate.

He watched as the young Martian below slowly inched his way to his helmet lying next to a tall stack of wooded crates, piled haphazardly in front of the dusty windows of the warehouse, no doubt in an attempt to contact his friends. The process was slow and obviously painful, and Pawnn seriously doubted he would achieve his goal before Ranor noticed him.

He slowly stood on the thin rafter he was perched upon and quietly dropped to the floor below behind another set of crates, stirring only a slight puff of dust as he landed. He was going to have to interfere.

* * *

Ranor advanced as the girl slowly inched away from him. She stopped as she hit the large bundle he had dragged over earlier and he smiled. This was getting better by the minute. 

"There's only so far you can go girl. This planet, or the next, someone's always going to find you. You can flee, but how far? How many more people will be hurt because of you? How many already have?" he said quietly, looming above.

Raye watched him with wide eyes. How did he know? How did this creature know the fears that ran through her head at night? It wasn't fair.

"No one..." she started.

"No one what? Are you honestly trying to tell me that your existence hasn't harmed any one? Let's think back on that one shall we? Can you honestly say such a thing? Can you?"

Raye opened her mouth to protest when Ranor suddenly reached past her, grabbing the edge of the thick bundle behind her and pulling it back with a quick sudden movement. He pushed her head down, forcing her to come face to face with the grotesque battered head of a homeless man, still reeking of alcohol, even in death.

"Can you?" he whispered into her ear.

Raye's breath stopped and her stomach turned. Eventually she managed a weak "Who was he?"

Ranor shrugged. "I didn't ask. What you should know is that if you hadn't been here, he would probably still be alive." He wrinkled his nose at the foul smell coming from the bundle. "Not much of a life, but breathing all the same."

Raye reached out and tentatively touched the dead man's face with her fingertips. "I'm sorry." she whispered.

He leaned in once more. "Still think your innocent? Put that one on your tally sheet girl."

"I didn't kill him." she said, putting as much force behind the words as she could manage. They were words she wanted to believe.

Ranor snarled. "Is that your defense? Are those the words you will use when someone you really care about is killed? What will you say when someone you love dies and you could have prevented it by simply giving yourself up?"

Raye froze, feeling like she had been hit in the gut. There it was, the same thought that had been running through her head for the past week, late at night, after Creed had gone to bed. Quietly watching him sleep, she had wondered, how far would this all go?

How much would her brother have to give up to keep her safe?

Was it worth his life?

"No..." she gasped, her breathing refusing to slow down.

"No? Rather heartless of you. You have a brother don't you? Don't tell me you wouldn't be a least a bit sad if he died?"

"Stop..."

"Tell you what, why don't I kill him before I take you in? I'll let you watch."

"No..."

"We'll see how you react."

"Be quiet..."

"Or would you even care, heartless one?"

"BE QUIET!"

Rimfire turned from his goal to see Raye's body become lost in a sudden flash of white light. Squinting, he watched as the bounty hunter backed away a few step's in surprise, raising his hands to shield his face as soft spirals of light moved out from her like ripples in a pond.

Raye was aglow.

As if this day could get any worse.

* * *

Creed swayed on his feet as a sudden wave of dizziness took a hold of him. His arms groped for something steady and found Stoker, who had come up from behind. 

"Whoa there, you okay junior?" he asked.

Creed struggled to suppress the panic rising within him. Raye. Something was happening to her, he was sure of it.

"Raye, we have to find her." he managed.

Stoker winced. "We will, junior, just keep..."

"Now." It was only one word, but the force with which it was spoken was enough to tell Stoker that they better get a break soon. One look at Creed's face confirmed it. He looked like a mouse possessed. Concentrated and angry.

* * *

Rimfire had redoubled his efforts to reach his helmet. Behind him, Ranor had back himself against some crates, eyes wide and unbelieving at the sight in front of him. The light emanating from Raye had increased, and now filled the dusty warehouse completely, pulsating in time with her heartbeat. 

She only seemed to grow stronger.

Rimfire was trying to ignore the chaos behind him, but still felt as if he was in a dream, where you pumped your legs as hard as you could, but ended up feeling like you were running through tar. He was three feet from his helmet when it suddenly jumped and rolled it's way into his arms. He stared at it dumbly for a moment before a deep voice resonated in his ears.

"Call them child, before she destroys this place."

He searched but could see no one, and without further hesitation, fitted the helmet over his head.

* * *

Meanwhile, Modo and Throttle were searching the nearby storefronts for any sign of their missing party, with no luck. Fifteen minutes had passed and still there was not one clue as to the location of either of them. On the other side of the street, Stoker had his hands full trying to keep Creed from staggering around like a drunken sailor, and Vinnie was starting to become bored with their lack of progress. 

"Uncle Modo, come in, Uncle Modo!" Rimfire's voice echoed through all of their helmets,and for Modo, it was as welcoming as a voice at the end of a long tunnel.

"Rimfire! Where are ya boy?" Modo yelled in relief.

Just then came the sound of exploding glass, as the windows of an old warehouse three blocks down shattered into the street. White light flashed from inside.

"Never mind kid, I think we have a pretty good idea. Hang tight." Stoker said, climbing onto the back of his bike, Creed right on his tail.

"Better hurry, it's getting unreal in here."

A few seconds later they crashed through concrete and steel, coming face to face with a situation that neither Stoker nor Throttle had a play number for. To their left, Rimfire lay on his side while holding his left shoulder with his right arm. The rest of him, much to Modo's horror, was bruised and bloodied. A few feet over, a red reptilian biped stood, staring unflinchingly at the source of pulsating light in front of him.

"What the?!" Vinnie exclaimed, raising his arms protectively. "Something tells me we've missed out on one helluva party!"

"I don't know, looks a little big for a disco ball to me bro." Throttle said, turning the tint on his helmet up a few notches.

In the center of the large room, a luminous figure stood shock still in the eye of a spiraling cyclone of light. Creed strained to see Raye's golden eyes, bright and unfocused in the chaos. Fearful. If there was one thing those beautiful eyes were communicating, it was fear. And he hated it when Raye was afraid.

He pushed himself from the bike and began moving forward. He was stopped by Stoker's hand on his arm.

"Whoa, junior, what do you think your doing?" Stoker yelled.

"Exactly what I'm supposed to. Let me go Stoker."

"Look, I want to help her too, but you ain't gonna be able to do anything if your dead!"

"We don't need your kind of help!" Creed shouted, pushing Stoker's hand away and turning towards his sister. He looked back. "You can't do anything now."

Resolutely, he turned and began walking into the storm, slowly but steadily, keeping his eye's on Raye's. As he came closer he could feel her energy rip like gust's of wind across his chest and legs, as though trying to push him back, but he continued forward. She fought and he fought, she pushed and he pushed back, until he was standing unsteadily before her. Without stopping to think, he wrapped his arm around her illuminated body, bringing his head to hers.

The moment he made connection, he collided with a virtual nest of memories and emotions flitting about his mind, each staying only moment, enough to sting him but not long enough for him to grasp or make sense of. He tensed and focused, delving deeper, trying to find the conscious mind of his sister.

It was almost as if she was trying to avoid him. Just when he thought he had her, the line of connection would disintegrate and he would be left with the remains of scattered memories it left behind. Frustrated and scared, he stopped the gentle probing and simply hit her mind hard, something his father had likened to a mental slap across the face. In his mind, she came into focus.

_"Raye!"_

_"Go away..."_

_"Don't be ridiculous. Raye, you must calm down."_

_"I'll hurt you."_

_"When have you ever hurt me? Come on now..."_

_"Curse..."_

_"What?"_

_"Loner...they hate me"_

A unfamiliar memory flooded into his mind, the place of which he recognized as Alston, but the memory itself he did not know. He was following a old woman, and when she turned to look at him, he recognized her as one of the volunteer's at the refugee camps' hospital, one of Raye's friends. She led him through the camp, down dusty streets and into a small house on the border of the town. The room he stepped into was empty, but dark and he strained to see beyond the faint light coming from the shuttered windows. The woman moved into the shadows as he felt his heart began to speed with the the first twinges of panic.

Without warning, something large and sweaty plastered itself across his mouth and his arms were pinned to his sides painfully. He struggled but his body felt weak, he tried to lash out with his tail only to discover he lacked the appendage. Raye. Were these were Raye's memories, from back on Alston? She had told him she didn't remember anything!

A stabbing pain in the neck distracted him from further thought, and he felt Raye's body grow weaker. Before he knew it he was looking up from the floor at an ugly Plutarkian who was quickly counting out money. The old woman pocketed the coins before turning sad eyes on him.

"Forgive me child..."

They were the last words he heard before the memory went blank.

_"Hate me...what's wrong with me?"_

Creed broke from the lingering effects of the memory.

_"Nothing! No one hates you, she was just desperate. Desperate and stupid."_

_"It's not stupid to keep evil from you."_

_"Your not evil!"_

_"I'm a curse."_

_"Where did you hear..."_

_"Stay away from me brother."_

_"What? No."_

_"I'll hurt you, I don't want you to get hurt."_

_"I'm not hurt, I'm fine. Raye, listen to me, you must calm down, you have to bring yourself out of this. Your wings are going to appear again, do you want that to happen?"_

_"Stay away..."_

_"No! I'm not going anywhere, and if you don't calm down I really will be hurt. Myself and everyone else."_

_"Everyone...?"_

_"They're all here. Rimfire too, he needs our help. Bring yourself out of this Raye, I need you to come back."_

_"But..."_

_"Raye, dammit, do you not understand? I need you with me!"_

_"...brother."_

She pulled her mind away from him, and he felt the energy surrounding them both decrease. Opening his eyes, he saw the faint outline of her wings gradually fade into the air as the light coming from her dulled. Thank god they hadn't made a complete appearance.

A few moments later she leaned against him, and he felt her small hands dig into his shirt. She cried, and for a minute he simply held her, unsure of what to do, or how to make sense of what had just happened. In the back of his mind he wondered, just what were they going to do?

He pushed the thought back and took a deep breath, holding Raye at arms length and taking a good look at her. A few bumps and bruises, but nothing that looked serious. Just exhaustion. Wiping the tears from her face, she looked up at him and gave a weak smile.

"You don't look so good."

He ruffled the long white bangs from her eyes. "Your welcome. Come on, we need to get to work, there's a brave soul in need of our attention at the moment."

She looked over to see Modo lifting Rimfire to a sitting position as the latter held his arm with gritted teeth. She felt her stomach drop again. Creed came up behind her with a reassuring squeeze to the shoulder.

"You couldn't help him before, but you can do something now." He nodded to the back of Stoker's bike where a familiar black bag still rested. Creed never went anywhere without it. She smiled and ran for the bike, but was swept quite literally from her goal as Stoker picked her up off her feet and swung her around once before bringing her back to earth.

"I've got just one thing to say cutie, and that's don't ever scare me like that again." That being said, he reached behind him and handed her the bag, pushing the bewildered Raye in Rimfire's direction as Creed followed in her wake. He spared the elder mouse a brief glare before getting to work.

Stoker sighed as he watched the medical duo get their patient fit enough to ride back to the scoreboard. Throttle stood at his side.

"Looks like your not off the hook yet."

"Looks like." he agreed. "You catch where our lizard buddy scampered off to?"

"Nope. Sorry, but for a while there, I couldn't see a thing."

"None of us could. Damn. I really wanted to nail the bastard. Especially now." he growled, looking over at Rimfire and Raye. "This ain't what I saw happening."

"Life ain't ever a straight road. Not like you can see what's around the next bend."

"Didn't I tell you that kid?"

"You have a bad habit of not taking your own advice coach."

"Showoff."

Throttle grinned as Vinnie rode into the warehouse, having retrieved both Rimfire's bike and a worried Charley. She joined Creed and Raye. Things were quiet for a moment as the trio worked.

The moment didn't last long. Raye yelped as a sizzling white bolt fired inches from her feet. Creed moved to grab her but was stopped by another bolt from above.

"Don't move!"

They all looked to the rafters.

"Looks like he found us." Throttle said over his shoulder. Stoker swore.

Perched on a thick metal beam, Ranor stood holding his over-sized laser pistol, staring down with crazed eyes. They were trained more or less on Raye.

"That creature's beyond a curse, she's a monster!" he shouted with shaking hands.

Behind Rimfire, Modo slowly stood, his one eye glowing red. He didn't even flinch as a bolt sizzled across his shoulder, leaving a shallow line of singed fur and flesh. Raising his right arm, he popped out the twin cannon's that had sent many enemies running for the hills.

"You the one tha' hurt m' family?"

Ranor didn't answer and turned his pistol back on Raye.

"Monster." he repeated. "Forget the bounty, someone like you shouldn't be allowed to live."

"I asked ya a question. You the one tha' hurt m' nephew?" Modo shouted, his eye growing brighter by the second. He was ready to shoot.

The next moment Ranor was falling to the ground, landing heavily with a bolt through the heart. There was a moment of stunned silence. Vinnie whistled through his teeth.

"Whoa Modo, now I _know_ I never want you mad at me."

Modo look at his arm in confusion. "It wasn't me."

Throttle ran over and took the pistol from Ranor's hand, just in case, as the hunter raised his head and locked eyes with Raye.

"Remember what I told you girl. A curse, that's what you are." A few moments later he took his last breath.

* * *

Hidden in one the the dark corners of the warehouse, Pawnn looked up in time to see the faint shadow of a body disappear from one of the broken skylights, the unmistakable outline of a laser pistol in it's grip. 

It seemed Rasgulla's hunter had made her first move.

* * *

_Hello again. Okay, cheese trivia take two: Rasgulla is in fact an Indian cheese. It consist's of "balls of unripened cheese soaked in a sugary syrup."_

_I've been to India. I'm glad I never ate this. I loved most of the food, but I'm honestly glad I never ate this._

_Reviews most welcome :)_


	9. Chapter 9

_Disclaimer: I do not, nor have I ever, owned the Biker Mice from Mars. My heart is heavy with the knowledge._

_Greetings! So I finally got myself registered on Red Planet. Happiness. What a cool site. Now I just have to figure out how to upload the story. Sigh. I'm hopeless, I really am. :)_

_silverphyrbyrd: As always, thanks for your faithful reviews, and for giving me artwork to look forward to! You rock!_

_Rynorean: I'm assuming your Ryn but with a new twist? Thanks for reading, and I hope you don't mind terribly all the Rimfire torture I have indulged in these past few chapters. Poor guy._

_Imcristiel: Thanks for reviewing even though you didn't have much time. I appreciated it!_

_So here it is. More drama than I'd like in this one, mainly because drama is not my strong point. Oh well, I tried. Enjoy!_

* * *

The moon was approaching it's zenith when Throttle joined Stoker on the windy roof of the scoreboard. Wordlessly he handed his mentor a root beer, leaning on the thin railings overlooking Quigley field. They drank in silence, both full with their own thoughts. 

Finally, Stoker took a deep breath, letting it out slowly and carefully. He was tired.

"How's the kid?" he asked.

Throttle shrugged. "He'll live. He has Modo's durability, and two fussy medic's watching over him. He'll be fine."

Stoker nodded but said no more as he stared out over the city. Throttle watched him from the corner of his eye. He hadn't really acknowledged it before, but his mentor was getting old. All the years of fighting, the struggle, the physical and emotional blows had piled on top of each other, slowly weighing the freedom fighter down.

Not that he was ready to be put out to pasture. No, far from it. Stoker had a strength born from those same battles that would keep him tough and active till they day he dropped. But still, Throttle could see the change. The weariness in the eyes aging him beyond his years. He felt a stab of regret course through him. Damn Plutarkians.

"Got Carbine on the mike a few hours ago, any reason you two ain't talking?" Stoker asked suddenly. Throttle chuckled.

"We're having what you might call a difference of opinion regarding my triumphant return to Mars. Or lack thereof. Our last conversation wasn't exactly civil."

Stoker grinned for the first time in hours. "Some poet down the road is gonna have a great time with you two."

"Nothing poetic about some of the things we say."

"You might be surprised what a few hits of an overactive imagination can do. Anyway, she's all for getting Creed and Raye set up on Mars. Just about threatened bodily harm if I didn't haul them back with me."

"Yeah, well, that's what a shortage of skilled doctors will do to a leader. Mars is seriously lacking in the health care department." Throttle commented, peeling the label from his bottle. "She know about Raye?"

"For the most part. She knows she's a Loner."

Throttle look up. "And the rest? The kid has some pretty...unique abilities."

Stoker sighed. "I know, but that's something I'd just as soon explain face to face. No sense in letting her make Raye into a monster before she even meets her."

"Meaning your counting on letting Raye's face convince her she's not dangerous?"

Stoker grinned. "Gotta admit, the girl's cute in a way that takes you off guard. I'm willing to bet Carbine will see the light. So to speak."

"Just remember, it's not just your gamble coach."

"Trust me."

"Always have. You talk to Creed yet?"

Stoker groaned and Throttle laughed as he slapped him hard across the back.

"Well, good luck when you do coach. Something tells me he's going to be harder to convince than Carbine."

* * *

While Throttle and Stoker planned his future above, Creed was finishing disinfecting and organizing his medical supplies in the dim light of the scoreboard kitchen. Charley had gone home a few hours previous. Vinnie had collapsed in the hammock shortly after and now filled the room with unpredictable snoring. Modo had been so worked up about his nephew that eventually Creed had given him a mild sedative that put him to sleep, allowing him to clean the wound on the giant's shoulder without interruption. 

Carefully packing up his medical bag, he carried it to Raye's room and stood in the doorway for a moment. Raye sat silently at the side of what had once been her bed, a place now occupied by their current patient. Rimfire's breath came slowly but steadily, and Creed was sure he would recover relatively quickly, considering his wounds.

This knowledge had done nothing to dissuade Raye from abandoning her post. He tried once more.

"Raye, it's late."

"Hmnn."

"You should sleep."

"I'm fine."

"Raye..."

She turned, and in the light coming from the moon outside, he saw her weary smile. "It's alright, I'm not tired, really. Go get some sleep Creed, I'll stay up with him."

He studied her carefully for a moment. "You're lying." he said, more as a statement than an accusation. She averted her eyes and turned back to Rimfire.

"I need to do this. If only to prove to myself that I'm not completely useless." She looked back up at him. "It's at least something I can do, let me help."

His eyes narrowed momentarily before walking over to the bedside and setting down his medical bag. He sank to one knee and gripped her chin gently. "You are the farthest thing from useless." he said, and eventually was rewarded with a soft smile and a nod. Returning the smile, he ruffled her hair as he stood. "I will be on their rather pathetic excuse for a couch if you need me."

Leaving Raye behind, he walked back into the living area, stripping off his shirt as he came to the lumpy couch. Sinking into the cushions with a tired sigh, he tilted his head back and rubbed the bridge of his snout absentmindedly. What a day. It would be too soon if something like this never happened again.

_But it very well could. _The thought pushed to the forefront of his mind before he could stop it. What was he going to do? It had become glaringly obvious today that he and Raye could not hide forever. Plutark was indeed after them. No doubt there would be more attempts and the day's events had only served to prove that Raye's abilities had become stronger rather than weaker. He didn't understand why, only that it was.

Letting out another deep sigh he stretched himself out on the sofa, eventually finding a comfortable position. Sleep overtook him before he had a chance to brood further.

* * *

_What were they going to do?_

Raye's mind ran over the words repeatedly as she kept watch over Rimfire, but still, no answer came. None that is, but the one that had been presented to her earlier by Ranor.

_She could give herself up._

Raye shook her head in the darkness, trying to expel the words. No, she couldn't do that, she could leave Creed. He'd be so angry.

_But he would be alive._

She froze at the thought. In all truth, it wouldn't be all that hard to give herself up. There was a bounty on her right? Surely there were more Hunters out there. A quick transmission was all it would take...

No. Those were thoughts that just couldn't be entertained. It was too easy of a way out. She could only imagine how ashamed her father would be. He had always emphasized the danger's of the easy route.

Father and mother, she missed them. Especially now.

Swallowing back a hard lump emotion she reached out her hand to feel Rimfire's brow, relieved when she detected no sign of a fever. Creed was right, he was going to be okay. Smiling, she folded her arms on the side of the bed and lay her head down. Just a few minutes, she'd rest for just...a...few...minutes...

* * *

Rimfire opened his red eyes with a start, then just as quickly closed them as harsh sunlight invaded his formally comfortable dark world. After a few moments he tried opening them once more, and was relieved when he could do so without seeing spots. It took a couple minutes of staring at the dull gray ceiling before his eyes finally figured out how to function properly. Once they had he took stock of his current situation. 

Arm in sling? Check.

Raging headache? Ugh...double check.

Sleeping and slightly drooling Raye? Check...wait a minute.

She slept just at the edge of the bed, bent over in her chair as her silver white hair spilled across the dark sheets and her face rested in her arms. He cocked his head as his sleep fogged brain tried to figure out why she was even here in the first place. For that matter, why was he here? This was her room right? Well, Uncle Modo's room, but for the past few days his Uncle wouldn't so much as knock on the door to disturb her, so it might as well as been hers. Turning his head he saw the small water filled bowl with the thick washrag, and next to it, the rolls of as-of-yet unused bandages.

Oh right, yesterday.

Raye must have stayed up with him. Or tried to anyway. His eyes softened. She must have been so tired. He remembered quite well what had happened.

Before he had the opportunity to contemplate further on the subject, nature decided to call and he clumsily moved to sit up. The shifting brought Raye out of an already shallow state of sleep, and she quickly lifted her head, her long hair falling more across her face than anywhere else. She rubbed her eyes absentmindedly.

"Morning."

He paused in his efforts as she raised herself to a sitting position, watching him with bleary golden eyes.

"Morning." he answered.

"Trying to go somewhere?" she asked somewhat suspiciously, eying his arm. He blushed slightly and looked towards the door, his mind trying frantically to find a less embarrassing way to say he needed to visit the can.

"Um..I..that is.." He grasped for words but lost them under Raye's annoyingly unwavering gaze. "You know.." He waved towards the bathroom door, hoping she'd get his drift. She got it.

"Oh...oh! I'm sorry, of course, um..." she searched frantically around her, eventually finding what she needed. "Here's some pants." she said, holding out a pair of dark blue sweats and looking at the floor with great interest.

He froze. No. Don't tell him he was...

He took a quick peek beneath the sheets and reddened further. Yep, sure enough. No pants, no nothing except white bandages. Avoiding eye contact, he reached for the bundle in her hands.

"Thanks...I think." he said.

"We had to get to those cuts and bruises on your legs and hips." she explained, turning and facing the window as he awkwardly pulled on the pants with one arm. "Don't worry, Creed and your Uncle took care of that part, I wasn't even in the room." she hurriedly tried to assure him.

He tightened the drawstrings and paused for a moment. "You stayed with me though, during the night?"

She continued to stare out the window. "I wanted to help. You did so much for me, those bandages are proof enough of that."

He took a quick glance at himself and the white strips that wrapped around parts of both arms and his ribs.

"What, you think this is bad? You should have been there when I ran into my first gang of sand raiders. This is nothing, really." he said with a forced chuckle that reminded him that regardless of his words, he still had cracked ribs in there somewhere. When she didn't respond his laugh faded, and the atmosphere in the room turned awkward.

Raye kept her back to him as the seconds passed. Clasping one arm with the other, she lowered her head.

"I'm sorry." she whispered, so softly that even his sensitive ears strained to hear the words. He frowned.

"Raye, you don't have to..."

Suddenly she straightened up and turned to face him, all smiles.

"In any case, your injured, and that my friend makes you a patient. My patient." She marched over and took his good arm, guiding him towards the bathroom door as she continued to talk.

"So that means for the next fews days you will be getting lots of sleep, plenty of good food..."

_"Hopefully not prepared by her."_ he thought.

"...incredible amounts of water, and of course, multiple tours of the restroom facilities." She pushed him inside and closed the door. "Enjoy your stay." she called from the other side.

Rimfire stared into the mirror for a second, confused, before moving on with business.

A minute of so later, she was back at the door. "Um, I just spoke with Mr. Stoker. He ah...wants to see you when your ready. Make sure you take your time okay?"

He winced. So much for bed rest.

* * *

Later, after he had managed to get himself as clean as his current condition would allow, Rimfire joined the others in the living area, sitting himself uneasily in the largest chair as Stoker and Throttle waited. He wanted to get this over with, and apparently Stoker thought now was as good as a time as any. Gone were the relaxed and cheerful expressions he usually saw. Deep frowns were the trend this morning. To his right, Creed sat with his arms crossed at his chest, his face set in the usual indifferent and unreadable mask. Rimfire sighed. Oh yeah, this was going to be fun. 

Raye came up from behind, placing an enormous glass of water and two bright blue pills into his hand.

"Here, take these, they'll do wonders for your pain."

"Thanks."

She gave a quick smile then turned to the others. "Do you have to do this now? Can't it wait?"

Stoker's face softened a bit as he answered. "No can do I'm afraid. I may be more relaxed then most, but I'm still the kid's superior. And he has a few things to answer for."

"But..."

"It will be fine Raye, let it go." Creed interrupted. He looked over to her and she took a moment to study his face. Unlike the others, to her Creed's indifferent mask was a paper screen which only thinly disguised what he was thinking or feeling. She felt her anxiety vanish. Creed wouldn't stand against her friend, she was suddenly sure of it. She nodded and moved to the door of her room.

"Make sure you drink all of that." she said, motioning to the water in Rimfire's hand. He took a look at the huge glass.

"But..."

"Drink it. Or I won't forgive you."

"Yes ma'am."

She shut the door and was gone. Stoker leaned forward on his arms, taking a long steady look at him.

"Well?"

Rimfire glanced quickly at each face in the room, noting with dismay his Uncle's absence. He must have gone with Miss Charley to the ship today. Looked like he was on his own here.

"I...I did what I thought was best at the time." he eventually said.

"Which apparently boiled down to cutting off all communication with us? Explain to me that logic." Throttle said.

"I thought..."

Stoker pounded a fist on the armrest of the couch. "No you didn't think kid, and that's the problem. Listen, you want to disobey orders? Fine. But at least have the guts to disobey them in the open. Shutting us out was possibly the stupidest decision you could have made in that situation, and you went for it! Your orders were to protect Raye, and you deliberately made choices that put her in the worst danger, not to mention what happened to you..."

"You think I wanted this to happen? I was trying to keep her safe. Yeah, so I made a stupid move, I'm not gonna deny that, but I just couldn't keep her there. We were sitting ducks, I thought if we could at least keep moving..."

"Dammit kid, we were coming to you!"

Rimfire's cool evaporated. "And how long exactly was that after you spotted the Hunter? We could've been out of there way before you even lost him, but no, you wanted to draw him out didn't you?"

The room went quiet as Stoker and Rimfire squared off. Creed unfolded his arms and slowly stood.

"Is this true?" His tone was an icy sort of calm.

Stoker glared at Rimfire but said nothing, as the younger mouse regretted his words. He hadn't meant to accuse the coach. Creed patiently waited as Stoker let out a long sigh and met his eyes.

"Yeah, in a way."

Creed came a step closer and Stoker rose to his feet, choosing to meet the dark mouse face to face. The room was tense.

"You knew where the Hunter was and you did nothing but watch?"

"Listen, it wasn't as simple as that."

"You used her as bait."

"We had to make sure..."

"You gave me your word!" Creed ground out through his teeth. "From my point of view, Rimfire was the only one actually thinking of my sister's welfare through all this."

At this point Throttle stood, coming behind his mentor. "That's unfair and you know it Creed."

"Do I?" He swept his eyes around the room, seeing only strangers.

Stoker waved Throttle back and laid a hand on Creed's shoulder.

"Look, I never had any intention of putting that girl in danger, you have to trust me on that."

Creed reached up and grabbed his wrist, pulling the hand away from him.

"Trust? No, I am sorry Stoker, but circumstances have moved beyond my ability to trust you." His eyes went around the room once more. "Any of you."

Vinnie, who had been annoyed by the whole meeting in the first place, jumped to his feet, his face red beneath the white fur. "Now wait just a damn minute pretty boy, remind me again who helped get your sister back even though they didn't have to?"

Creed ignored him, and Rimfire struggled to his feet, anxious to fix the mess he had caused.

"Stoker wasn't trying to get anyone hurt, what it was was an accident. None of us could've guessed the lengths that Hunter went to. We're all to blame really."

Creed remained silent and expressionless, his anger melting into hurt and then to resignation. Betrayed. Just as his parent had been betrayed by their own kind, so had he. But did he honestly expect more? History always had a way of repeating itself, it was simply the nature of the universe and nothing would ever change this. People only protected those who were considered truly their own. Well, if Raye was destined to forever walk alone, then he would walk with her.

He let out a deep sigh. "Your wrong Rimfire, I am the one to blame for this. I trusted where I had no right to."

Rimfire did a double take. "What do you mean by that?"

He stepped out of the group, moving to Raye's room. Pausing at the door, he spoke without taking his back from them.

"Miss Charley should have the repairs to my ship done by this evening. We will be leaving tomorrow." His hand tightened on the doorknob. "It's strange, I was actually hoping to be able to tell Raye we could begin calling Mars home. But I suppose some things are only ever meant to be dreams."

He turned the knob and went inside, leaving the mice in a state of confusion.

"Well, that could've gone better." Throttle commented.

Stoker let out a long sigh. "Carbine's going to have my head."

* * *

Hidden deep beneath the surface of Lake Michigan's waters, the human Hunter Malady tapped her foot incessantly as she listened to the feeds coming in from her target's hideout. The ship's main lighting was off, leaving the job of illumination up to the main control panel circumventing the bridge. It cast an eerie blue glow upon everything in the room, giving her fair skin a deathly tint. Taking a long sip of the wine she had bought earlier in the day, she grinned. There was an advantage to hunting on your home planet. 

The fight blaring in her ear came to a head, and she stopped tapping her foot. Interesting.

This was certainly going to put a damper on the prep work she had already carried out. Her current plan still required at least one more day. An unwelcome inconvenience, that's what this was. Well, such was life. She hadn't been this successful by not being able to bend with the wind when she needed to. Still, it was a shame. Her plan had had such...style to it.

Keeping the feed in her ear she rose from the captains chair, wine in hand, and opened a small storage compartment in the back of the bridge. Inside lay the laser pistol she had used earlier to deal with the ungracious Ti'lan, as well as a dark bodysuit that, despite its' design simplicity, seemed to shift it's appearance with the light. She fingered the lightweight material as her brow furrowed. A snatch and run job. Not quite the stylish exit she had been hoping for, but Vice-Chairman Rasgulla had not hired her for her flair. Besides, the reward was truly a thing of beauty in and of itself.

She smiled as the Martian's continued to argue among themselves, obviously frustrated.

"Such drama." she murmured as she took the gun and the suit from storage.

* * *

Pawnn stood tall among the stadium bleachers, watching the lighted scoreboard above with a silent steadfastness. He would remain here tonight. Whoever had dropped Ranor yesterday was the other Hunter. He was sure of it. He may not be familiar with her, and her reputation was a mystery, but she was a Hunter. No doubt she had heard the conversation above just as he had, and was thinking similar thoughts as well. 

It appeared tonight was going to be his last night on Earth.

_Reviews most welcome. :)_


	10. Chapter 10

_Disclaimer: I do not, nor have I ever, owned the Biker Mice from Mars. Oh...the agony!_

_Greetings! _

_I took a long time on this one too didn't I? Sorry!_

_I don't have a whole lot of time tonight, so please forgive the short thank you list. Thank you to **silverphyrbyrd** for sticking with me and "eek"-ing on occasion. You made me smile. Hello again **Rynorean** and thanks for reading! And I like both your names! **Imcristiel**-thank you too for reading, and I can sympathize with the RL getting in the way. Hang in there:) And last, but certianly not least (pardon the cliche), a big Thank You to **whipblade** for reading and reviewing. You really did make my day!_

_And without further ado, here you go!_

* * *

Raye scurried away from the door just in time for Creed to make his entrance. Moving back to the chair, she huddled with her knees to her chest as he began to take the various items they had brought over from the ship and toss them on the bed. He moved with an efficiency only a doctor could possess, silently moving about the room as one by one he cleared the space of their existence. Raye watched with worried eyes as the pile grew ever larger. 

"Creed, what are you doing?" she asked timidly.

He didn't look at her as he moved, adding to the pile accumulating on the bed.

"Exactly what it seems." he said harshly. When she said nothing he turned and looked at her, his red eyes brighter than usual.

"I'm sure you overheard. We're leaving."

Raye sat in a moment of shock. He had been serious. She had half convinced herself that the words had been spoken in anger, a threat never intended to be carried out. She should have known better. This was Creed. Very rarely did he say something he did not mean. She stood to her feet and walked around the bed, standing just behind him.

"But...like this? After all they've done?"

"Indeed. After what Stoker has done, to be more precise."

"He was trying to help, you can't put the on blame him."

"I have every reason to blame him. He put you directly in harms way."

"Unintentionally."

He took a deep sigh and finally turned to face her. "Whatever the motive, the damage is done. We can't trust them Raye. I can't trust them."

"But..."

"If they can betray us once, they are more than capable of doing it again. I'm simply keeping that from becoming a reality."

She took a step back, her face stricken. "Is that really how you see our lives?" she asked.

He turned back to the bed and resumed his self appointed task. "It's the way things are. I've simply accepted it." There was a coldness to his voice now.

She tasted the tears before she even knew she was crying. She wasn't even sure exactly why, only that his words had hurt. Wiping her face dry, she took a deep breath and eventually found her voice again.

"Do you have faith in anyone Creed? They've done more to earn your trust than anyone. They helped you when it would gain them nothing. They protected us even when it cost them in their own blood. I can't even claim to have helped you that much."

"Raye..."

"If you think after all that, they would turn right around and betray you, how can you even have faith in me?"

His head whipped around to her and she stared back at him.

"What's to stop you from thinking the same kind of thoughts about me someday? Would you leave me too?" she asked.

He winced. "You know I would never..." he started, but instead of finishing he came over to her, laying his hands on her shoulders in a manner that suggested he needed the support. "I will always trust you Raye, shoot me yourself and that won't change."

She shook her head in frustration. "You don't understand. I need you to trust others, not just me."

He released her shoulders and moved back a step, staring at the gray floor between them. "Don't ask me to do that. I won't blindly place your future and mine into the hands of people I've only known a few weeks. I'm not going to take the risk."

Raye hung her head further, letting her hair form a curtain thick enough to hide her eyes. She understood now why she was crying.

"...and you never will, will you? You'll keep us running forever, constantly traveling until our legs collapse from under us, just because you can't trust the people we meet on the side of the road."

"It's safer if we don't."

She felt herself grow hot and the voice inside of her rose, brimming with frustration and hurt. Hurt for her, but more hurt for him, for his fear, his anger, and for a life lived only to survive. For the years spent on the move, for the home they never had, for the friends never made, and for the family taken from them both much too soon. All of this churned inside of her in an instant, rising in her throat and overflowing from her mouth. She lifted her head and found herself screaming at her brother for the first time in her life.

"It's a horrible way to live!"

Creed staggered back a step, standing in stunned silence for a moment before he became aware of the noticeable temperature hike in the room. His mind kicked back into gear as he realized what was happening. In front of him Raye stood in an intense silence, hands curled into small fists, head hung low as she simmered in her own heat. He knew what would come next and moved to stop it.

Taking her shoulders once more he tightened his grip and forced himself not to shake her.

"Raye, look at what's happening. Calm down."

Her only response was to become more rigid.

Just then the others stormed into the room, having heard the shouts. The looks on their faces confirmed the fact they had noticed the heat. Stoker turned his eyes on Creed.

"Junior?" he asked, straining to keep his voice calm and even. If she let loose in here, it would be bad to say the least. The real estate in the scoreboard was much smaller than the warehouse.

Creed said nothing as he once more dove into Raye's mind. Unlike before however, finding her was a much easier task.

_"Raye." he warned. _

For a moment there was nothing. Then...

_"I know."_

And that was all it took. A few seconds later they were staring back at each other while the room breathed in fresh air from the window Rimfire had opened. Every freedom fighter in the room heaved an audible sigh of relief.

Vinnie threw his arms to the heavens along with his eyes. "Since when did we step into a Dr. Who episode? Why can't things just go back to normal around here?" he ranted as he stomped off.

Stoker came up and leaned an arm against Creed's shoulder in an effort to relieve some the tension.

"Well, I'll say one thing for you two, you certainly keep life interesting. I just hope these spats of yours are rare occurrences, or Mars is in for one helluva light show." he joked, grinning over at Raye. She failed to smile back.

"I meant what I said, I'm not going to Mars." Creed said quietly.

Stoker's grin faded as he took his arm from Creed's shoulder. "Well, that's too bad, isn't it? But tell me junior, you speak for her too?"

Raye raised her head slightly and tucked the hair shielding her face behind her ear. She didn't look at any of them however, as she spoke.

"I belong with with my brother. I'm sorry Mr. Stoker. I wanted to see Mars, I swear to you I did. But...I can't leave Creed. I'm sorry."

Stoker twisted his tail in a knot but did his best to smile at her. "Well, I can't say I'm happy to hear that cutie," he said "but if you ever change your mind, you know where to find us, right?"

She nodded and looked away. The others took it as their cue to leave and filed out. All but Rimfire, who hesitated for a moment, looking back with a pained expression on his face before closing the door.

Raye moved out of Creed's grip and unsteadily began placing items into the few bags they had. Eventually he joined her on the opposite side of the bed and began to do the same.

"Raye?"

"I'm angry with you."

"...I know."

* * *

Pawnn took a moment to admire the descent of Earth's sun as he waited for the second Hunter to make her move. His sensor's told him she had left her ship some time ago, but as of yet he had no knowledge of her exact whereabouts. Fortunately, he was quite good at silently waiting, so that was the skill he exercised at the moment. She would make herself known eventually. 

His bugs had not fed him much more useful information in the past few hours, but even through the feeds he could sense the tension in the scoreboards atmosphere. For some reason it was making him uneasy. In the past few hours he had dwelled on the interpersonal aspects of the the situation above far more than he should have. It had very little to do with his mission, he knew this. And it was when he found himself physically wincing at the harshness of the silence above that he forced himself back into his own reality.

The girl was the target. He was the Hunter. Hunters did not become personally involved their targets problems and or personal life. This was a steadfast rule. But he was beginning to have his doubts. The scene in the warehouse the day before had awoken in him a deeper understanding of the files Lord Livarot had sent. He wondered at the wisdom of putting something like her into Plutarkian hands once more. Would he not be a participant in the destruction they used her for? Would he be just as guilty?

Did he have a choice?

His family had been freed, yes, but Lord Livarot still held in his hands the means to destroy everything he held dear. The girl would have to pay the price for his loved ones. It was fate.

The communicator on his belt beeped softly, and Pawnn heaved a heavy sigh. Speak of the devil. He took it out and flipped it open.

"Lord Livarot."

"You have not contacted me as you should have Pawnn. May I ask why?"

Pawnn paused for a moment. "The details seemed insignificant. You chose me due to your faith in my abilities, did you not?"

"Clever evasion Pawnn, but not a sufficient answer. Don't forget you family is still within my grasp, regardless of their current location."

Pawnn's thoughts turned to the small chips in bedded in the minds of his wife and two children. Livarot possessed the transmitter that could instantly tell their nervous systems to shut down. It was literally a touch of a button.

"It is something that dwells upon my mind daily, Lord Livarot." he said slowly, careful to keep his voice from betraying any sort of discernible emotion.

Livarot's on the other hand, reeked of smug authority. "As long as you are aware of it. Now, to the 'insignificant details' you spoke of."

"As you wish. Bleu's Hunter has been exterminated, the girl remains unharmed."

"Exterminated?" He heard a soft chuckle from the other end of the line. "That should twist a thorn in Bleu's side. Well done."

"The responsibility lies with Rasgulla's Hunter, Lord Livarot."

"How interesting. Doing your job for you, hmnn?"

"Making it simpler."

"So you say. Estimated time to possession?"

"Hours. Rasgulla's Hunter should take her chance tonight."

The words were no more out of his mouth when a sharp blade moved under his throat and a set of thermal bindings immobilized his arms. He chose not to react as a puff of hot air wisped across his left ear.

"Timely prediction violet, but you should know, I don't take chances."

The voice was low, but decidedly feminine. Without moving his head he glanced down to the small communicator that had clattered to the pavement, Lord Livarot's irritated voice sounding through the speaker. A small foot crushed it under it's heel, grinding it a bit as the metal screeched across the concrete. A petite woman glided into his line of sight, jumping lightly to the narrow tops of the bleacher seats so that she could more or less come eye to eye with him.

He found that his eyes were having a hard time focusing on her. Whatever she was wearing shifted it's appearance subtly in the waning light, seemingly adjusting to it's surroundings. He was surprised to notice his captor was human. Or at least she appeared human. She regarded him with large dark eyes, eventually flashing a smile that was decidedly not a smile. His baser instincts took over. This woman was not safe. On many levels.

She balanced effortlessly on her narrow perch, regarding him curiously before leaning in close and laying each of her arms across his shoulders.

"My, my, what a complete lack of challenge you turned out to be. Tall though. I like tall." she said softly, inclining her head entirely too close for his comfort. He resisted however, the urge to pull back, instead holding his ground, not moving a muscle.

"I take it you belong to Rasgulla." he said. She laughed.

"Belong? What an offensive word. She pays the bills my friend, nothing more. But since you don't seem to know who I am, allow me to enlighten you. Malady is my name."

The name didn't ring a bell, so he ignored the introduction, having no desire to encourage her any further.

"You seem to take your duty to her lightly." he commented. She didn't seem to need any encouragement, as her next move was to start running her hands gently down his chest, exploring to his waistline and back up again.

"On the contrary, gold is quite heavy, it carries an extra weight with me. But enough pleasantries for now. I have a request to make."

"Request?"

"Mmnn. More like a bit of friendly advice, since your rather cute."

"And that would be?"

"The girl is mine. Stay out of this, or as much as I would regret it, I'll put a hole through your heart to match the one I sent through that Ti'lan's." He didn't much appreciate the conviction in her voice. His mind turned to his family.

"I must decline your advice." he said.

"Oh? How brave." she purred.

"May I ask a question of you?"

She grinned. "Please do."

"For what would you give your life?"

She pulled away slightly, and much to his relief, ceased her ministrations across his chest.

"You're a strange one. But since your so curious, my answer is nothing. Nothing is that precious."

"Nothing?"

"You sound disappointed."

His eyes met hers briefly. "I had hoped there was more depth to your soul than I could detect."

"Concerned for my soul? My, my, I could fall in love with someone like you. Perhaps I won't kill you after all."

"Do what you like for now Lady, but know I will have to take the child from you eventually."

She gave him the smile that was not a smile once more and lightly brushed her lips across his. A second later his mouth began to burn and his vision swam. Poison.

"Then it's a date. Don't worry, you're only going to sleep. Rest well..."

His vision slowly went dark as he sank to the cold concrete, noticing just before he succumbed how she jumped and glided down the rows of the stadium, much like a bird flitting from one perch to another. A modified anti-grav suit. No wonder he..couldn't...focus...

* * *

Beneath the guise of supposed sleep, Throttle silently watched Creed behind the cover of his shades as he lay on the couch. Not that sleep would be a possibility even if it was his goal. Creed's constant pacing, coupled with the unconcealed agitation pouring from him made the idea of sleep almost laughable. Perhaps it was due in part to the strength of his telepathic abilities, but Throttle had no doubt it was the dark mouse who was, however unintentionally, creating the almost palpable tension in the air. 

As a result, the scoreboard was uncharacteristically quiet. Vinnie had abandoned ship shortly after the siblings fight, leaving with Charley for the Last Chance as soon as she returned with Modo, the final repairs on the ship completed. She had been puzzled at the atmosphere in the usually party-happy scoreboard, but had said nothing upon seeing his and Stoker's warning glances.

Instead, she had grabbed the most volatile element among them and dragged said mouse out the door by his bandoleers, motioning on her way out for one of them to call her. Charley-girl may not like being kept out of the loop, but she knew enough to recognize when retreat was the best course of action. Someday he was going to have to express just how much he appreciated those street smarts of hers.

Modo and Rimfire had opted to stay in the scoreboard, eventually settling on a diet of movies and board games, since they were the only activities besides eating that Rimfire could actually do reasonably well at the moment.

Stoker had headed for the roof, taking refuge in the night air and a bottle of chilled root beer. The day had not gone well for him. And he still had to call Carbine.

No doubt it was bound to get worse.

Creed had left Raye's room shortly after they had, coming out with a distinct expression of pain and frustration on his features. He had been on his feet ever since, pacing about the scoreboard, tapping in commands on his hand held computer, while generally ignoring everything and everyone else. There was an old saying on Mars, 'the tail tells the tale'. Creed's was belting out a full length epic.

Throttle was extremely tempted to give the mouse a couple of good knocks, maybe enough to keep him unconscious for a few minutes, so they could all get a moments peace. He restrained himself. Stoker still had vague hopes for a change of heart, and pummeling Creed, while satisfying for the moment, would not help in the long term. Besides, even if the doctor was out cold, he had a feeling the intense aura in the scoreboard would only be somewhat diminished. It was probably a safe bet to say Raye was contributing in her own way as well.

And that was how things stood. It was like a massive traffic jam, and they were just going to have to deal with it until the siblings left tomorrow. Then it was their problem. The thing was, in his own way, he was going to miss them. Creed may be a pain in the neck at times, but the guy was smart, and the two of them had had some interesting conversation while doing the repairs to his ship. Throttle hadn't realized how much he'd missed that kind of interaction. Not since before the war when he...well, that was a long time ago, and those schools had long been destroyed.

And Raye. Throttle was pretty sure the coach wanted to adopt her. Somehow, she had woken up the until now dormant parenting genes in him. Or at least the beloved Uncle gene.

Damn. Now he really wanted to pound Creed.

* * *

Malady kept balanced upon her perch atop the dimmed lights of the stadium with little effort on her part. She smiled to herself. The anti-grav suit had indeed been a good investment. Costly, but who could truly put a price on quality? Besides, it wasn't as though she had had to shell out the gold. Lady Rasgulla had many faults as a chairwoman, but being un-thorough was not among them. If it would insure her future career, the woman was more than happy to see it done. And if Malady had made Hunting out to be more complicated than it was? Well, Rasgulla would never know. Or care, as long as she got what she paid for. 

Still, Malady had been skeptical as to how a single girl could make the Lady's career. Had been, until she witnessed the events in the warehouse yesterday. She still didn't understand what the girl was, but one thing was for sure. She had power. The kind of power leader's salivated over. Fought for. And quite often killed for.

She pulled out another toy purchased by her employer, a small pair of voice activated multi-lenses, whose many uses included a focus function, allowing her the bonus of getting a bird's eye view of her target's room. Setting them lightly on the bridge of her nose, she commanded a hundred twenty percent focus, given she wasn't all that far off.

And was promptly disappointed. Despite the drama earlier, all the girl did now was sit motionless at the window, staring out over the city. Malady zoomed in on her facial features. Nothing. No tears, very little expression at all in fact. She looked empty and drained.

Maybe she didn't know what to feel?

Malady grinned and jumped from her perch, darting over the rows of seats towards the scoreboard. She would be feeling something soon enough.

* * *

Stoker was debating with himself whether or not calling Carbine was a wise decision when he noticed the the strange figure darting through the stadium, jumping from row to row like a cat at play. It blended with it's surroundings so well that Stoker at first thought he had imagined it, but then the figure would move again, allowing him to catch a glimpse of pale skin against the darkness. Something was there, moving fast. 

Suddenly it jumped, and much to Stoker's disbelief, landed thirty feet above from where it had started, making it's way to the scoreboard in one vault. He turned and ran for the stairs as he realized where it was heading.

Raye had just pulled herself from the window when she heard the faint rustle behind her. She had no more turned around when a dark blur propelled her backwards, both of them landing on the bed with a muffled thump. A black shape loomed above her, pressing hard into her shoulders, as a small hand closed tightly over her mouth.

Looking up, she met the dark eyes of a human woman, who's wide grin and dark swaying hair gave her an almost feral quality. She balanced atop Raye with her knees pressed into her shoulders, her lower legs wrapping around her captives arms and locking at the ankles across her stomach. Raye struggled by kicking her legs but soon found it to be pointless in her current position. The woman above her grinned even wider and put a slender finger to her lips.

"Hush now." she whispered.

Just then a great deal of commotion broke outside the bedroom door and the woman let out a small sigh of frustration.

"Such a ridiculous amount of fuss." she murmured.

* * *

It took only a second from the time Stoker had burst into the scoreboard for Creed to practically demolish Raye's door, the others directly on his heels. The room was dark, and it took his eyes a moment to adjust. 

Throttle, who's light sensitive eyes needed no such time, removed his shades and immediatly pointed to the right side of the open window. "There."

A soft laugh floated from the dark corner as a petite figure, holding a struggling and muffled Raye, stepped with ease into the moonlight.

"Bravo. Quicker than expected, I must say."

Creed took one look at her and without a second thought, moved forward to take back his sister. The woman responded by tightening her grip and flashing a sharp blade to Raye's left cheek. He froze.

"Good boy." she said. "Rest assured, I won't kill her, but scarring is another matter."

"Release her now." he spat, holding himself in check on sheer willpower. She smiled at his visible struggle, amused.

"Not even if you ask nicely."

Throttle stepped forward, placing a steadying hand on Creed's shoulder and focused his red eyes on the strangely shifting form of the woman holding Raye.

"You won't get far." he threatened.

She grinned, holding his gaze in a directly challenging way.

"Oh, I think my chances are better than most. But by all means, chase me if you want, it makes the night all the more exciting." At this her eyes strayed to Modo, who towered behind them in the doorway. He fidgeted under the unexpected scrutiny.

"Exciting indeed." she murmured. Raye struggled again in her arms, and she seemed to re-focus, tightening her grip and taking the last step to the window. Then she did something seemingly impossible for her size. Holding Raye to her, she jumped effortlessly into the air, coming down lightly on the sill of the window.

"Au revoir." she sing-songed, leaping backward into the night air.

Time moved slowly as Raye fell with her captor, her eyes wide and locked with Creed's, as in an effort to call out his name through her gag. He ran to the window in time to see them both land safely. The Hunter repositioned her over her shoulder and jumped, this time landing a good forty feet away before jumping again, leaping like an over-sized cat through the stadium and disappearing into the night.

It happened entirely too fast.

Half a minute later they all sat idling on the roof of the scoreboard, searching the streets below with their helmets in an attempt to find some trace of the Hunter.

"Damn," whistled Stoker through his teeth. "Moves fast, don't she?"

Behind him, Creed gritted his teeth. "And the creature's using that speed even as we speak, so why are we not moving?" he demanded.

Stoker wheeled on him. "You gonna point out a direction junior?"

"Thirty point five two degrees northeast." came a deep voice. They all turned to see a giant of a man, violet haired and skinned, standing unsteadily at the far side of the scoreboard roof. He lifted a long and bleeding arm in the direction of Lake Michigan.

"Or in other words, that way."

_Reviews most welcome!_


	11. Chapter 11

_Disclaimer- I do not, nor have I ever, owned the Biker Mice from Mars. I despair._

_Greetings! Good lord, this took me long enough didn't it? Almost there though. _

_Thanks to-_

_Silverphyrbyrd- here you go, a bit more Pawnn action, coming your way. Thanks for your support!_

_Whipblade-your reviews are always encouraging. Thanks for sticking with me!_

_Rynorean- hello again! Yeah, Throttle thinks a bit too much. Oh well, he's a brooder, can't help that I guess. But at least he knows how to party too!_

_Without further ado..._

* * *

Raye struggled to keep her stomach in check as she repeatedly slammed down on her captor's tiny, yet undeniably bony shoulder. When the woman wasn't running at impossible speeds, she was jumping at a level that was no less astounding, and every time she came down, Raye felt her insides being skewered by the bony prominence.

They flitted from rooftop to rooftop, at first across the tall towers of downtown Chicago, and now across the smaller residential areas. They were obviously approaching the limits of the city, heading towards the enormous body of water the locals liked to call a lake. Personally, Raye felt the word 'sea' was a more appropriate term, but then again, she didn't live here.

Another abrupt jolt to her stomach shook her from her reverie. Pondering would need to be saved for a later time, getting away from this Hunter was more important at the moment. One more leap, another jarring, and they were soaring over the full tops of a thick grove of trees. She tensed as they headed down. Now was her chance to get away and hide.

As they landed the Hunter paused for a moment, perhaps to get her bearings, and Raye took her chance. Quickly, she reached up and took a thick handful of the womans hair, then with all her strength, pulled down as hard as she possibly could.

The woman screamed in anger and pain, releasing her for an instant as she instinctively brought her hands to her head. Raye dropped to the ground, coming down hard on her back. Scrambling backwards and pushing herself to her feet, she ran for the thick cover of the dark trees. Safety was only a few feet away when a familiar dark shape darted in front of her.

Raye tried to evade to the side but it was already too late. The Hunter had recovered quickly, and now sought to return the favor by easily grabbing Raye's long hair and yanking her head back. She stumbled on her feet but remained upright as she looked into the dark eyes of the woman in front of her. The feral quality was back, and her eyes shone as she lifted an arm and backhanded her across the face.

Raye staggered and fell to the ground, holding her burning cheek.

"Bad girl." the Hunter said, almost gleefully, as she gave Raye a long once over. "We're just not connecting are we?" she asked.

Raye struggled to her feet as her captor moved closer, grinning all the while. If there was one thing Raye was certain of it was that she didn't like how this woman smiled. It made her feel like small insects were making their way across her skin. The woman stopped just short of stepping on her toes. She was not much taller than herself, Raye noted towards the back of her mind.

"Let's have a little one on one shall we? A heart to heart, so to speak. I should make clear that unlike my competitors employers, the only thing mine concerns herself over is that your alive and more or less functioning. I'll let the last transgression go out of the goodness of my heart, but from here on out, be careful of what you do."

She used Raye's hair to pull her face close to her own, near enough for them to share the same breath.

"I appreciate beauty, it would grieve me to mar such lovely skin. Understand?"

Raye nodded slowly and cautiously as the Hunter smiled and brought her lips to her forehead.

"Such a good girl." she purred, picking her up by her waist and slinging her over her shoulder, only this time she was facing forward, making it exceedingly difficult to reach up for another handful of hair. Raye grimaced as her transportation bound into the night air, pushing the bony knife of a shoulder into her stomach. She distracted herself by contemplating a new way to escape. And apparently hair-pulling just got scratched from the list.

* * *

Pawnn was feeling the slightest bit humiliated. Being well over nine feet on a bike obviously built for someone considerably shorter and having to sit sidesaddle as a result was enough to irritate anyone. But adding insult to injury was the fact the young mouse handling the bike look as though he might fall apart at any second.

Honestly, Pawnn had been surprised to see the mouse moving at all. He had witnessed the beating the boy had taken the day previous. Ranor had enjoyed himself, this was for certain, kicking the boy with his massive legs, and hitting him with enough force to collapse the lungs of many species he knew of. Martians must be made of stronger material than most.

"By the way," the mouse in front of him said suddenly, looking back, "thanks."

Pawnn stared back, uncertain. "Why do you thank me?" he asked eventually.

The boy grinned. "Come on, don't play dumb. Yesterday, crazy warehouse of fun, my helmet. Ring any bells?"

"So certain?"

He laughed. "You can bet on it. Not every one has a voice that sounds like it comes from a tomb. You could put Dracula to shame."

"Dracula?"

The mouse shook his head, clearly amused. "Forget it." he said, then held back his one good hand. "I'm Rimfire, and thanks anyway."

His passenger looked nervously to the empty handlebars. "Should you not be driving?" he said, ignoring the hand. Rimfire grinned, but replaced his hand.

"Relax, if she wanted to dump us she would have done it by now. Besides, it's not like I can really drive at the moment." he said, releasing the handlebar once more and waving his one good arm. His passenger looked even more nervous. "She's AI." he explained.

Realization dawned. "I was not aware Martians possessed such technology." he said.

"How d' ya think we won the war?" said the largest of the Martians, a gray mouse with a metal arm. "Name's Modo, an' I guess I owe ya some thanks myself for helpn' m' nephew here." he said, holding out his massive flesh arm as his bike pulled closer. Once again Pawnn ignored it, but for different reasons.

"I have no desire for you to thank me." he said.

"I doubt that sentiment is due to modesty." came a familiar voice. Pawnn looked over to see the scowling face of his targets' brother. Creed leveled his eyes with Pawnn's. "Your after her too, aren't you?"

"Does it matter at the moment?" Pawnn asked.

"The enemy of my enemy is not my friend. Are you after her as well?" Creed persisted as the others looked on.

"I wish her no harm." Pawnn said eventually.

Creed opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by a loud howling sounding through all their helmets.

"Oowwww! Never fear, Vinnie Van Wham has arrived!" The self proclaimed mouse came barreling down a side street. Pawnn feared the Martian would hit them when he suddenly vaulted, bike and all, over their entire entourage, landing on the other side of Modo, racing ahead without missing a beat. "Let the rescuing of the damsel in distress begin!"

With the white newcomer diverting attention from him, Pawnn looked away, staring at the multi-colored houses they passed on the way to the lake. How could these people choose to live so close together? He had been many places in the universe and it never ceased to horrify him how many species lived in such close and confined living areas. And it wasn't as though they managed to do so in peace either. Such places usually had considerable problems with theft and murder.

He sighed. Once again, not his problem.

He had more pressing matters to consider. Like how he was going to get the child away from not only her current captor, but the party he currently found himself a part of. And how to do so without becoming seriously injured in the process. He wasn't so much worried about Malady as he was the scowling dark mouse to his left. The bonds of family were a strong drug, inspiring ordinary people to extraordinary actions. He glanced over to see Creed still watching him, studying him with an intensity that would have been unnerving had he not understood its' origins.

_"Watch me as you will young one, but it will not help you. I have my own dear ones to keep safe, and they are above all else." _his thoughts challenged as he stared back.

The residential area began to fade into forest, till eventually there were nothing but trees and darkness around them. The mice wisely kept their headlights off, knowing from experience the kind of warning a light could give an enemy. As they approached the lake they went to strictly speaking quietly through their coms. The atmosphere shifted. Even the bikes seemed to attain a degree of stealth.

Pawnn found himself mildly impressed. For all their rough and rowdy ways, they were remarkably well-attuned to battle situations. It was rare to find people who possessed that kind of readiness, but were still able to keep their personalities intact. Usually one gave way to the other, fading away into eventual death. Battle readiness was not an easy companion to every day life, but somehow these Martians had found a way to be both hardened warriors in one moment, and joking fools in the next.

Even he had troubles when he would return from a mission. It was simply hard to make the shift. His family understood this to a degree and was respectful enough to give him a wide berth for a few days as he adjusted, but these Martians were different. He wondered why.

Stokers low voice broke him from his thoughts. "Okay boys, coming up on our new friend's coordinates now. Just on the other side of these trees."

They crept to the edge of the tree line,which had shaped itself into an uneven crescent around the shore, staring out over a vast expanse of motionless and empty water. Throttle and Stoker exchanged glances.

"So where's our lady?" Stoker asked, turning to Pawnn.

Pawnn stared out over the water and frowned. "The coordinates are correct, she must be submerged.

"Well that's great sweetheart, but we ain't fish. Just how do you suggest we get down there?" Vinnie asked, being as quiet as it was possible for him to be.

Stoker was wondering the same thing when he caught a dark shape bound off the top of a neighboring fir tree, coming to rest atop a tall pine which towered just short of the water, perhaps a hundred meters ahead of them, almost at the center of the shoreline. He held out a hand to signal the others, and they watched as the woman balanced on the thick branch, staring out over the water.

Draped over her dark shoulder was Raye, quiet and still but with her head turned up, as though curious even in her current predicament as to the nature of her surroundings. An image of her with her book and a pen in hand, recording observations from the shoulder of her captor sprang to Stoker's mind and he smiled in spite of himself.

Creed's heart leapt to his throat as the Hunter casually tossed his sister behind her, leaving Raye to grasp desperately for the trunk. It took most of his willpower not to jump from the bike as she slipped once, then by some miracle regained her footing and hugged the tree with all her might. Meanwhile, the other occupant of the branch was pulling a small metallic cylinder from her belt and pointing it at the water, waiting a few seconds before a white light flashed out into the darkness.

Throttle and Stoker exchanged another set of meaningful glances and the former signaled back to the others.

"Flank and spank number 36." he announced into their coms. "Spread."

A few seconds later Modo and Vinnie were following the tree line to the other side of crescent, making their way to the beach. Thankfully, the trees led straight to the water.

They were no more a second in place when the deep rumbling of churning water reached their ears and they looked up to see an ink black space cruiser emerge from boiling waters, streaming down rivulets as it slowly made its' journey to the shore. Pawnn watched passively from the back of Rimfire's bike as the others silently surrounded their target. Malady seemed impatient with her ship's progress, tapping her foot on the branch and looking furtively around. Pawnn felt a small twinge of satisfaction. So the woman was not as impervious as she preferred to be? Or perhaps she was not entirely ignorant as to the abilities of her captives' new allies? Either way, she was on edge, and this fact was most useful.

A few moments later, as Malady's ship was approaching the shoreline, Stoker turned to Rimfire and Pawnn as Throttle continued to watch the position's of Modo and Vinnie.

"Stay here kid, your in no shape for action tonight." he said. Pawnn saw the boy's shoulder's visibly tense.

"Coach..." he started to protest.

"Side's," Stoker interrupted, "I need you to be ready to spirit our girl to safety when the time comes."

"Certainly your not considering leaving Raye alone with him?" Creed said, nodding to Pawnn. "Who's to stop him when he decides to take off with her on his own? It's not going to be Rimfire."

"Hey!" Rimfire growled.

Stoker glanced over to Throttle who shook his head in exasperation.

"Perhaps it would be better if I were to take my leave now." Pawnn said, seeing a chance for escape. Pairing up with the Martians and their bikes had been a necessary evil, but he needed to be away from this group now that the girl had been found. Creed had stated the truth, overpowering Rimfire would not be difficult, but he found himself not wanting to cause the young Martian more pain than he had already endured.

"Your not going anywhere." Creed growled, making to move from Stoker's bike. Stoker pushed him back.

"Good! Now that we're all agreed, let's nab your sister before that Hunter decides to take her swimming, shall we?" he said, motioning to Modo and Vinnie, who looked as though they were getting impatient.

Creed whirled on him. "That is not what I..." The rest of his words were cut off as Stoker broke the quiet of the forest with three powerful rev's of his bike, charging out into the open as Creed struggled to stay both seated and upright. The others followed suit, speeding out from the trees, light's flashing and engines roaring, creating a general feeling of mass confusion.

Rimfire heard his com come to life. "Keep him in your sites kid." Stoker said. Rimfire felt for the laser pistol tucked inside his jacket, the only thing he wore over his bandages.

"Got it."

* * *

The sound of engine's had never sound so heavenly to Raye as she clung to rough bark a hundred feet above the ground. In the past hour she had decided she hated high places. Especially high places that insisted upon swaying. Looking below she saw Throttle and Stoker, with Creed perched on the back, rushing towards them on the left, and Modo and Vinnie to the right. Glancing back she saw Malady staring at the biker's below, the silver of her ships control beacon flashing in her hand, and incredulous expression upon her face.

"Damn, they actually found me. Should have searched the Sakian after all." she muttered, pulling a black laser pistol from her back as she sent a final white flash towards the ship, halting it in mid-flight. Then, to Raye's horror, she whirled on the branch and promptly took aim for the others below, aiming first for Stoker's bike.

The speed at which the woman fired took Stoker and Throttle off guard and they split apart. They tried to circle back as they dodged hot laser fire, a rapid spray that ceased only when their attacker turned the weapon on Modo and Vinnie, preventing them from getting within thirty feet of the tree.

Stoker and Throttle met up again in the middle as the Hunter rained fire down on Modo and Vinnie, who were doing their best to distract her. Creed readied the laser pistol in his hand and took aim as their group charged ahead. They were a good fifty feet away when the Hunter spun on the branch once more and fired off the next succession of shots, one of them clipping Creed on the shoulder.

"Kid!" Stoker shouted, swerving to the right, narrowly missing the next shot, intended for him.

Raye watched as Creed clutched his right arm in pain and cried out in alarm. Looking over to the Hunter, she was sickened at the satisfied grin on her face. Making her next decision without any sense of logic whatsoever, she pushed herself from the trunk to which she clung, jumping for the small woman who shared the branch with her, screaming for her to stop as she hurled them both into the air. She was pushed away a split second later as the Hunter twisted in mid-air, regaining her balance. Raye, on the other hand, continued to fall to the earth headfirst.

Raye watched in dismay as the ground raced ever closer and quickly snapped her eyes shut, preferring not to be an active witness to when it finally met her face. The wind felt cool and clear through her hair and she concentrated on this, rather than what was soon to come.

Suddenly, strong hands spread around her waist, introducing gravity once more as they halted her descent, flipping her upright then across a pair of long legs. When she dared to look at the world again she found herself face to face with a man who had the most mesmerizing eyes she had ever encountered. They flashed like polished silver, studying her with an intensity which reminded her all to much of her brother. They were the eyes of a man who thought too much of the world around him. Someone who saw the way things were.

Tearing her gold from his silver, she found that she had been nestled between this stranger and Rimfire, who's orange striped ponytail was all too familiar by now. The two had caught her mid-air and she felt hands grip her tighter as they skidded to a stop not far from the cursed tree she had so unceremoniously flung herself from.

Rimfire barely had the time to glance back and grin before the laser fire began once more. Swearing, he gunned his bike with the one hand not currently in a sling, and the bike took care of the rest, speeding them away from the psychotic Hunter above. Stoker and the others raced to flank them, firing back as the Hunter ducked beneath a branch then jumped to the ground, disappearing behind the thick pine.

Rimfire stopped only when they had reached the tree line, the others stopping on all sides, each of them alert to the still looming danger behind them. All that is, except Creed, who struggled from Stokers bike and pulled Raye from between her rescuers, enveloping her in an embrace that nearly took the breath from her.

"Raye..." he whispered, gathering her in tighter as he tied them together with his tail. It was what finally kicked her brain back into gear. Only a few times in her life had Creed ever done this. The last time was when she was ten and had gotten lost on one of the the rougher out-colonies. It had taken him ten hours to find her, and another three to get him to unleash her wrist so she could go use the restroom.

"I'm alive." she commented lamely.

He may have planning to reply, but the opportunity was snatched away by the shrill feminine laugh that cut through the night air. They all turned to see a familiar black clad woman, standing this time not atop a tall swaying tree, but perched instead on a sleek motionless ship, hands on her hips and a crazed look in her eyes they could identify even from the tree line. Everyone who had a laser pistol unconsciously tightened their grip.

"Well, this certainly throws a wrench into the works, so to speak. Didn't we have an agreement that you'd be good my dear?" she said, grinning down at Raye in particular. "You now what happens to bad little girls don't you?" she asked, pointing a familiar silver cylinder at them.

"They go to the bad place!" she shouted as her ship came to life and suddenly fired down upon them.

Creed pushed Raye violently into Pawnn's surprised arms. "Take her!" he shouted to Rimfire, and jumped to the back of Stokers bike.

"We'll handle this, just go!" Stoker shouted out when Rimfire hesitated.

Glancing back at Raye, he nodded once before racing out of the reach of the ships attack. Pawnn tightened his grip on the girl as they sped into the forest, white laser fire nipping at their wheels.

* * *

Rimfire delved deep into the woods, working with his bike to move as nimbly and quickly as he could through the dense trees, not and easy task with only one arm. It wasn't until the battle was a series of muffled explosions in the distance when Raye finally spoke up.

"Rimfire, could you please stop here?" she asked. He shook his head.

"Sorry, I've got orders to get you to safety, and I'm planning on keeping them." he answered, keeping his eyes on the trees ahead.

"But we just can't abandon them completely, can we?"

His hand flexed on the handlebar. "Don't say it like that." he said tightly.

"Perhaps it would be wise to stop for a moment." Pawnn said.

"Not going to happen Pawnn." Rimfire answered. There was silence for a moment before he felt a hard barrel press into the base of his spine.

"I'm afraid this is not a request. Bring your bike to a stop."

Rimfire started, then let out a sigh as he complied. "So much for you being a good guy, huh?" he said, his arm raised. Pawnn moved from the bike and motioned with his weapon for Rimfire and Raye to do the same, reaching out and pulling the laser pistol from Rimfire's jacket, throwing it into the foliage.

"Wishing for something does not make it so, I never claimed otherwise. Now, forgive me young one." he said, pulling out a small transmitter from his belt and placing it on the bike. Rimfire heard the engine go dead as his bike made an electronic whine before collapsing to the ground, unable to keep herself upright. Rimfire whirled on Pawnn angrily.

"What the hell?!" he shouted to a deadpan Pawnn.

"As you said, your bike is AI. I have no desire for it to attack me on it's own." he said, tapping a button on the side of his weapon and pulling the trigger. Rimfire flinched as something stung at the side of his neck and the world around him became hazy.

"You bastard..." he managed to get out before sinking to his knees. The last thing he saw was Raye rushing towards him, arms outstretched as though to catch him.

Raye found herself cradling Rimfire's head for a second time, trying to adjust him to prevent further injury to his already battered body. Once satisfied with his positioning she turned on his attacker.

"Do you enjoy beating down the injured?"

Pawnn stared at her impassively. "Would you prefer that I killed him?" he said.

She opened her mouth but then closed it, staring at the ground in frustration.

"I just wish people would stop getting hurt because of me." she said quietly.

Pawnn watched her for a moment before answering. "Fate has dealt you an unfair hand. I will not argue this with you." He held out a large hand, as if asking her consent.

"Come" he said simply.

She carefully placed Rimfire's head on the ground and slowly rose to her feet, eying the offered hand suspiciously.

"I have a choice?" she asked.

"There is always a choice child. I ask you to come willingly."

She considered this for a moment before turning her attention back to Rimfire, who lay unconscious on the forest floor.

"Will he be okay?"

"He will waken soon, I was careful not to overdose him."

Raye listened to the soft explosions still going off in the distance, turning her head to the horizon. Pawnn followed her gaze and guessed her thoughts.

"They will not lose to her. She is not a match for them as a group, and she knows it. They will come out of the battle alive. However, I assure you they will not fare as well against myself. If you wish to spare them further injury, you will lay aside you doubts and come with me now."

Raye ran her mind over the events of the past week. So much trouble, so much pain had been dealt because of her. Because of what she was. Ranor had been right. And now, virtually staring her in the face and holding out a hand was the answer to her worries. She thought of Creed and made her decision. Reaching up she place her small pale hand in Pawnn's large violet one.

"I'm ready." she said as Pawnn nodded. Bringing her closer he scooped her up and ran into the forest, his long legs carrying them quickly and silently. Raye marveled for a moment how someone so large could be so silent. The explosions were becoming harder to hear as they traveled and Raye wished with all her being for Creed to okay. She wished for his future, one that wouldn't include him constantly guarding her. The one she imagined gave him happiness and rest, and eventually a loving family, one that would give him a place he could call home.

She smiled gently and curled up against Pawnn's chest, somehow feeling a degree of safety with him at the moment.

"Goodbye brother." she whispered.

Pawnn's stride shifted a bit as he looked down at her peaceful face and frowned. Guilt twinged through his heart for a moment. Someone so young should not be as peaceful as this one was about giving up on the future. His time of repentance was going to be long indeed.

_Reviews most welcome _


	12. Chapter 12

_Disclaimer: I do not, nor have I ever owned the Biker Mice from Mars. A thorn in my side indeed._

_Dear god, I finally finished. One more follow up chapter to go and I'm done folks. For anyone still following this story out there, THANK YOU, THANK YOU! **Silverphrybyrd, Rynorean, Whipblade, and Imcristiel if your still out there, THANK YOU! And thanks to Funia, for favoriting this story!**_

_You all have been great, and if I could ask one more thing of you, I would be grateful. Of all my chapters, this is the one I probably cared the most for, the one I invested the most time in. Your comments on this chapter in particular would make me a very happy little writer. Please donate a review?_

_Alright, enough of that. Enjoy!_

* * *

The woman was insane.

Relentless and insane. These were Throttle's thoughts on their current situation. Tucked behind an ancient fir, he watched as the rest of his motley crew raced into the forest, joining him not a second too soon as a barrage of white laser fire threatened to tear the surrounding trees to shreds. From behind a sturdy oak, Vinnie held his laser pistol level with his head and glared at the insult-shouting Hunter still perched in the roof of her dark ship.

"I hate crazy people." he snarled, his trigger finger twitching at the shrill taunting they were now forced to endure.

Modo chuckled from Throttle's right. "This comin' from the mouse who jumped the Therin lava beds cause he was bored."

"It was a dare! I mean, it was fun too, I'll give you that, but still, a dares' a dare." Vinnie replied with no small amount of indignation.

"Don't suppose it'd work t' dare him into bein' the decoy?" Modo asked, ducking as a branch splintered above his head, reducing his poor protective tree to a mere trunk.

Throttle shook his head. "Vinnie's nuts, but he's not stupid. I'll tell you what we need to do guys, we need to get behind the lady. The ship is her ace in the hole. We get around that and we have her."

"Valid point kid, question is, how? She's got us pretty well pinned if you ask me." Stoker said. Creed sat behind him, his shoulder hastily bandaged with Throttle's red bandanna, scowling at their attacker. Throttle guessed his expression stemmed more from being impatient rather than the actuality of being shot. He wondered at how the guy could manage to look annoyed even when in the middle of an all out battle.

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud explosion that pierced the air and they spun as one unit. In disbelief they watched as their sanity challenged attacker lost her footing, falling as her ship rocked from the blast still spewing fire in all directions. Vinnie's jaw dropped.

"What the hell?!" he sputtered.

"Hey guys, looks like you need a bit of a feminine touch on the situation, mind if I join in?" Charley's amused voice cut into all their helmets.

Throttle grinned as he revved his bike and readied his weapon. "Be my guest Charley-girl." he said before leading the charge into the clearing.

The Hunter was picking herself up from the ground when they sped out, stumbling to her feet in shell shock. Upon seeing the her attackers she dove for her weapon, which had slipped from her hand and now lay half buried in cold sand. She had her hand on the hilt when a net hit her from behind, knocking the pistol from her grip and launching her forward a few feet. Five large tires closed in around her as she swore repeatedly and struggled to free herself by lashing out at the net. She only succeeded in immobilizing herself further.

"Hey honey." came a voice, followed closely by a black and pink gloved hand that slammed down hard on her jaw.

Charley stood as she removed her helmet and took a deep breath, grinning at the slack jawed expressions on her friends faces. "I needed a little action is all." she said with a good natured shrug.

Vinnie saluted his rescuer while taking the opportunity to give her a once over. "I forgot about your biker babe personae sweetheart. I gotta say, you need to take it out of the closet more often." he said with a comically suggestive waggle of his eyebrows.

Charley rolled her eyes. "Spare me."

Creed looked from Charley to the smoldering ship, to the moaning figure sprawled in the sand and then back to Charley once more. "I am speechless." he finally came out with.

Charley smiled sweetly and patted her bike. "These guys like to leave me behind a lot. 'For your own safety Charley-girl, wouldn't want you to get hurt.' That is the usual line, right guys?" she asked, looking at her friends defiantly. They simply grinned.

"Anyway, I'm just glad I came when I did. What happened?" she asked.

Vinnie thumbed over to the woman slowly sitting up in her net, rubbing her jaw experimentally. "Psycho bitch here went ballistic once we got Raye back and tried to BBQ us all."

"Extra crispy." Throttle said.

"With sauce." Stoker added, motioning to Creed's still-seeping shoulder wound. Creed grimaced and stood, standing over the captured Hunter with as much intimidation as he could muster at the moment.

"You tried to kill her along with us. Why risk your bounty?" he asked quietly. She considered for a moment and then shrugged.

"It seemed like such a beautifully tragic idea at the time. Besides, I have no appreciation for a bounty who fights back." She smiled up at them with a wink. "So what now gentlemen? Going to kill me?"

Creed knelt down to her eye level.

"If Raye had been harmed, I would have considered it." he answered. She responded by blowing him a kiss through the nets.

"Who says she isn't handsome? The man you gave her to, he may have a sense of honor, but he's no boy scout."

Creed looked back to Stoker, panic in his eyes as he remembered exactly who he had pushed Raye to when the shot's began to fire. Stoker made a calming motion with his hands as the younger mouse moved quickly to his feet.

"Relax Creed, I'm sure she's fine."

"Raye hasn't been 'fine' in over a month. I have no reason to believe her luck has changed for the better until I see her." he said.

Three minutes later his paranoia was confirmed as they were slowly reviving a groggy Rimfire. While Charley fussed with the strange smelling salts from Creed's bag, he and Modo studied the surrounding foliage.

"Took her this way, beyond that, couldn't tell ya. This ain't like trackin' where we're from." Modo said, pointing to the tiny broken branches Creed knew he wouldn't have caught in hours of searching. Saying nothing, he stood and nodded in understanding. Meanwhile, Charley and Stoker were having better luck with their task of bringing Rimfire back to consciousness. The young mouse sat up slowly.

"Ugh..." he moaned, massaging his throbbing head gingerly. Modo quickly returned to his nephew's side.

"Rimfire, you alright there boy?" he asked.

Rimfire looked at the group surrounding him with a bit of a perplexed look on his face. "Huh? Yeah, I...Raye!" he suddenly shouted, bolting upright. He looked over to Creed. "He took Raye!"

Stoker caught him as he sank back, the sudden movement too much for the drugs still making their way through his system.

"Yeah, we've caught on to that kid." Stoker said.

Vinnie glanced over from where he crouched examining Rimfire's bike and let out a low whistle. "Plum-top laid your bike out pretty good. She's gonna need some quality time with Charley-girl before she's up and running again." he said.

Charley glared at Vinnie before squeezing Rimfire's shoulder re assuredly. "Don't worry, I'll have her in tip top shape before you know it."

Rimfire gave his bike a brief forlorn look before his face lighted up. "Wait! Throttle, interface your bike with mine, will ya?" he said excitedly, trying to move to his feet.

Throttle moved to steady him as he rocked on his feet and pitched forward again. "Whoa there! Sure kid, but why? It's not going to get her running again." he warned.

"I know," Rimfire said impatiently, "but I managed to plant a tag on Raye not long before Pawnn shot me. The signal code is in the hard drive of my bike. Access that and we'll find her."

Throttle whistled his bike over and plugged her into Rimfire's. His bike gave a small beep of sympathy for her fallen comrade and searched the files quickly, saving them into her own drive. After a few seconds Rimfire pumped his fist into the air in triumph as the files he searched for appeared on the consul of Throttle's bike.

"That's my boy." Modo said proudly.

It wasn't long before they were loaded up and tearing their way through the forest as quickly as they could, which, much to their frustration, was not very fast at all. Freedom Fighters were used to sand and the clear asphalt of city streets. Vegetation proved to be another challenge entirely. Still, Rimfire felt they were making good time. After all, Pawnn was on foot.

"You know," Vinnie said, "we could end up chasing some rabbit around if he's searched her and found your little present."

Rimfire thought this over for a moment and shook his head. "I don't think so. Something like that would be out of character for him."

Vinnie smirked. "If you say so."

Stoker and Creed pulled up between Modo's bike and Vinnie's as they came to a large tree fallen across their so-called path and joined them in blasting it to pieces. Creed re-holstered his weapon.

"I agree with Rimfire." he said, looking over at the young mouse. "Thank you."

Rimfire shook his head sadly. "I lost him. I should have done more."

Creed regarded him a long while before taking out a laser pistol tucked underneath his shirt in his belt. "You accomplished enough." He handed the weapon over. "Here. We found it in the brush while we searched."

Rimfire took the pistol gingerly with his good arm and turned it over in his hand. It was Freedom Fighter standard issue, nothing really special, but he remembered how elated he had been when it had first been presented to him by Stoker. He remembered feeling like an actual participant in protecting his home, no longer a part of the cheer-squad on the sidelines.

He didn't feel like much of a protector today.

* * *

Curled up quite literally in Pawnn's arms, Raye made the decision that if one absolutely had to be kidnapped by Hunters, her current mode of transportation was the way to go. The violet giant who now held her had a way of cushioning all the bumps and jolts, so much so it sometimes felt like when she had been rocked to sleep as a child, listening to the sound of her mothers heartbeat. She didn't know if he was doing this intentionally or if it was simply the way he ran, but she appreciated it all the same. It was a great deal more comfortable than her last ride. Her stomach was still sore thanks to that woman.

She shifted slightly in Pawnn's arms, craning her head to see out into the dark forest ahead. There wasn't much to see. Nature was dark. "Is this going to be much longer?" she asked.

Pawnn kept his eyes on the path apparent only to him. "I would not of thought of you as impatient to leave."

"I'm not, just a bit bored is all."

"I see."

She stole a quick glance at his face, layered with a thin sheen of sweat, yet he didn't seem to be breathing heavily at all. "Are you tired?" she eventually asked.

"No."

She grinned. "Amazing!" she exclaimed happily. It was enough to get him to look down at her for a brief moment. "You've been running all this time and carrying me as well. You must be very strong."

"Not strong, merely durable. Besides, you weigh less than my daughter did at five." he said quietly.

Raye stared at him for a moment. "Daughter? You have a family?" She was having a hard time putting the word 'family' together with the word 'Hunter'.

"Hmnn."

"How old is she?"

"Thirteen cycles."

"Thirteen." she mumbled to herself, then looked back up at him. "Do you have any other kids?"

"I do." he said simply, not nearly as anxious for conversation as his passenger. However, his passenger didn't seem to understand this unspoken fact and looked at him expectantly. He sighed. "A son. He is your age."

Raye considered this for a long while as Pawnn continued his trek, grateful to have the silence back. His relief was short lived however as Raye broke into a series of giggles.

"Incredible." she managed to get out.

Curious in spite of himself, his next word came from his lips before he could stop it.

"What?"

She smiled up at him. "You could be my father."

It was said innocently enough but it made Pawnn's stomach shift uneasily.

"Do not say such things." he said sharply.

Raye's grin faltered. "S-Sorry. I wasn't trying to insult your age."

"That is not the issue." he said, slowing his pace and looking down at her. She met his eyes and then quickly looked away, understanding what he was trying to say without words. He was the Hunter and she was the hunted. They were world's apart.

"Oh. Right. Sorry." she said.

"Do not apologize."

"Sor...okay."

They both traveled in silence for a long while, Pawnn deftly making his way through the dense underbrush and Raye staring straight ahead, keeping uncharacteristically quiet. Despite his love of silence, he was starting to feel the beginning twinges of worry over her lack of attempted conversation when she spoke up once more.

"I don't know if I've done the right thing." she said quietly.

He found himself alternating between relief and annoyance at the fact she was talking again. "One rarely does." he said eventually.

"Do you think your doing the right thing?" she asked.

The question took him off guard and he took his time answering. "I am doing what I must. I will have to be satisfied with that knowledge for now."

She seemed to consider this for a full minute. "But what about later?" she asked.

He sighed again. "You ask too many questions."

"Only because you answer them."

The line of his mouth twitched upward for a brief moment, but only a moment before it fell back. "Troublesome child." he murmured.

* * *

Roughly fifteen minutes later Pawnn emerged into a small clearing lit by the light of the moon above. It wasn't much, but it had been just enough room for him to hide his ship in when he had arrived, and far enough away from the city to escape detection as he had come down. His ship already had the necessary blockers to avoid detection from this planets rather primitive satellites, but human eyes and their camera's were another matter. Having a picture of his small ships' touchdown on Earth plastered over the newspapers had been something he had been happy to take the extra effort to avoid, even if it did mean a little extra travel time.

His ship stood just as he had left it, the dark gray of its' smooth exterior blending well with the shadow of the surrounding trees. He set his passenger down and let her walk around for a bit, watching as she admired the trees and the moon above. There was no hurry for them to leave. The Martians would never be able to track his steps, he had made sure of that. Besides, this could very well be the last time the girl would be able to see a scene such as this one. Better to let her enjoy it.

The sentiment was short lived as the sound of someone clumsily stomping through the underbrush put Pawnn on alert. He had just pulled Raye behind him when a familiar purple-robed Plutarkian stepped out from behind the ship.

"You never fail, do you Pawnn?" said Lord Livarot as he picked a small leaf from the hem of his long sleeves. "Excellent work, as always."

Pawnn felt the muscles in his body promptly tense as he nodded his head towards the fat Plutarkian lord.

"Lord Livarot." he said slowly. "I was not expecting to see you here."

The Plutarkian cracked a wry smile and waved his hand dismissively. "Yes, well, I grew bored of the feeble hospitality of my subordinates. It occurred to me you have been such a loyal employee these past years, the least I could do was save you the hassle of docking with the ship and pick up my girl on my own. Besides, your last transmission was...questionable."

"Interference from Rasgulla's Hunter my Lord." Pawnn answered promptly.

Livarot smiled thinly. "I see. Well, good to see you well and with my belongings safely intact." He turned to Raye. "It's been far too long my dear." he said with a small mocking bow. "Shall we go then?"

Pawnn felt Raye's hands tighten on his arm involuntarily at Livarot's words. Perhaps it was just now sinking in what she was about to go back to. He regarded his master cautiously and chose his next words even more cautiously.

"I am willing to take the girl to your ship myself. This was part of our agreement." he said.

Livarot crossed his arms across his massive bulk, his wry smile frozen in place. "My dear Pawnn, you don't sound the least bit grateful. This was a considerable effort for me to meet you."

Pawnn steadied his rapid heart as thoughts of his family ran through his head. If he couldn't take possession of the transmitter Livarot owned their safety could never be assured. He was sure the Plutarkian was not so foolish as to bring it with him.

"My Lord," he started, "I think only of your own convenience. It would be much less effort on your part if I were to take the girl myself and meet you on the ship. It would not be easy to send the transmitter to me on my own planet. We are a relatively closed world, outsider's are not readily welcomed."

"Ah yes, our bargain." Livarot drawled. "Fear not, dear Pawnn. I shall destroy the accursed device the moment I have the experiment safely secured. You have my word."

Pawnn did not feel assured and behind him Raye was trembling noticeably. He was readying his next parry for this battle of polite words when the familiar sound of motorcycles reached his ears. He turned abruptly, accidentally knocking Raye to the ground in the process. Confusion at how they had found him pulled at his thoughts. Behind him Livarot wasted no time shouting insults, cursing him for his "ineptitude in dealing with those rodents" as five motorcycles burst through the trees in a flurry of broken branches and scattering leaves.

"Well what do you know, looks like we found our rabbit after all." Vinnie shouted as he and the others came to a sudden halt a few meters in front of Pawnn, who had automatically drawn his laser pistol the moment he had heard them.

"Raye!" Creed shouted as he jumped from Stoker's bike. Seeing her on the ground behind Pawnn he first glared at the giant and then turned his attention on his sister. "Are you hurt?" he asked her gently.

She looked a little confused as she shook her head, but didn't say a word. Concerned, Creed moved to take her when Pawnn leveled his weapon at his head and he stopped, not moving forward, but not retreating either.

"Give her up, your clearly outnumbered." Creed warned.

Pawnn shifted his weapon to his left hand and reached down to Raye with his right. "It is not always a question of numbers." he said simply as Raye took his offered hand and let him pull her up to his side. "More often it is a question of strategy." he finished, looking down to the small young woman at his side and beckoning with his eyes.

She seemed to understand what he intended as she slowly stepped in front of him but made no effort to reach her brother. As the Martians watched in confusion, he sank to one knee behind her so his head was only a few inches higher than hers. She became his shield.

Creed looked from the expressionless face of his sister to that of her current kidnapper and then back to his sister. "Raye?" he asked, confused.

She couldn't hold his eyes, opting instead to study the ground at her feet. "I already told him I'd go with him." she whispered.

The mice looked at each other for help in this unexpected turn of events. "Oh momma." Modo said.

Creed stood in shock for a moment before finally erupting into anger. "You've lost your wits Raye!" he shouted, moving forward to take her back. It took Pawnn three shots to stop him in his tracks again.

"Come no closer." he warned.

Creed glared defiantly at Pawnn, who refused to move, holding his aim steadily on him. Creed kept his eyes trained on Pawnn's, the two of them locked in a battle of wills which ignored the rest of the people in the clearing.

It was Creed who broke the silence first. "You should already know I cannot leave her with you." he said

"Creed, what did I tell you? I'm going with him!" Raye cried, her body still shivering from fright. Pawnn felt another wave of guilt, but held himself in position with thoughts of his family.

Creed shook his head at her words. "I have no reason to let you Raye. I won't let you get hurt. Not again."

"Not fair brother, that's my line." she whispered.

Creed looked back to the others, each of whom raised their weapons in support, and then turned back to Pawnn.

"Let her go." he said evenly. Raye shuddered. She knew the tone. She was very familiar with that tone. Creed wasn't leaving anytime soon. This frightened her far more than Plutarkian still hovering behind them.

Pawnn faltered for a moment, guilt beginning to work it's way into his reactions. The movement was not lost on Livarot who's scowl deepened. He could see his years of hard work slipping away from him once more. Never again, he had promised himself. He would not suffer the humiliation of failure again.

"Move your weapon and your family will breathe their last Pawnn." he shouted.

Pawnn's grip on his laser pistol tightened. The fat lord had the transmitter on him after all? He never intended to hand it over. Pawnn shook with anger but did as Livarot demanded. He had no choice.

Stoker whistled from his bike. "Damn, this complicates matters." he said, looking over to Throttle. The tan mouse shook his head. Great, there were more people's lives on the line here?

Creed was thinking along the same lines. He still felt the frustration and anger of the kidnapping of his sister, but now as he looked at Pawnn, try as he might he couldn't just see a Hunter anymore. Now he had the added confusion of seeing the violet man as a husband and father. Complications indeed.

Trying a different tactic, he raised his hands in a calming gesture. "I can sympathize. The loss of family is the most painful experience you could ever know. I'm sorry. But that is precisely why I cannot let you take what is left of mine. Please understand this."

Pawnn didn't move behind Raye, who had stayed still for him. "I can. It is why I must let them take her. Hate me for this if you must."

Taking a deep breath, Creed moved a step closer, even as Pawnn fired another warning shot at his feet. "Listen, " he started, "I may not like you, but I know your not an evil person. You'll regret for the rest of your life what your about to do, and you know it. Stop this. Give me back my sister and I promise we'll help your family."

Pawnn seemed to consider this, but after a moment shook his head in denial. "I can appreciate your intentions, but you know nothing of the situation. There is nothing you can do to save my family." He waved back to Livarot with his right hand. "This is the only path I have to keeping them alive."

Stoker had been quietly listening to this conversation, but found himself moving from his seat when the last words were spoken. "Bullshit." he said, swinging his leg casually over the seat and swaggering up to Creed's side.

Pawnn regarded this newcomer with open hostility, shifting his aim accordingly. "You know nothing." he said with a deep rumble that stopped just short of a growl.

Stoker crossed his arms and shrugged. "Maybe. But it's still more than you know. There's always another way if your willing to have the guts to find it." Pawnn flinched and Stoker continued. "You ain't talking to some novice kid. Believe me, there were plenty of dead ends we ran into before we finally found the route that would drive out the Plutarkians. But you keep trying. If you love what your fighting for, you keep on trying."

"And in what way do you believe I am not trying now? Can you not see the lengths I am going to?" Pawnn countered.

Stoker chuckled and shook his head in dismay. "This ain't trying kid. This is taking the easiest path you could find. I'll tell you what this is. It's laziness. It's the laziness of a coward who's afraid to look beyond the walls of the cage he's built for himself."

Pawnn ground his teeth at the words as his weapon shook in his grip. "I will not be called a coward." This time he did growl.

Stoker grinned inwardly at the man's struggle. Looked like a chord was being hit. He decided to risk strumming one more note. "A brave man doesn't hide behind a helpless girl. And he never takes orders from a stinkin' Plutarkian." he said, gesturing to Livarot who was practically snarling at their party. He took a threatening step forward.

"Shut up!" he shouted. "Don't believe these pathetic mice can help you Pawnn. They lost nearly their entire planet and half their race to my people. Considering a track record such as that, I don't suppose your willing to give up half your family? I can arrange it."

He snarled the question and Pawnn ground his teeth once more in frustration, but Stoker noticed the gun in his hand no longer held the precision aim it once did.

"But we got you out, didn't we fishface? And I notice you haven't exactly made much progress here. And whose stopping you? An army? Hardly. Three rag tag Freedom Fighters with no back-up support or funding to speak of. These three!" he shouted, motioning back to his boys. Vinnie sat a little straighter on his bike.

Livarot turned red in the face as he shook in anger, pointing an accusing finger back to the city skyline. "Limburger is an incompetent. Plutark has stripped every planet it have ever set out to take, this one will be no different. No one can ultimately stop us from taking what we want, just as you cannot stop me from taking what I want!"

Creed took a step closer to Pawnn, who held his pistol as an afterthought now, his expression deep in thought. Creed looked from him to the Plutarkian who had just spit up his hate and arrogance to them all and shook his head.

"Your such a pathetic creature." he said to the furious fat fish. "Deficient in so many ways, the only chance for you to make anything of yourself is to take from others."

Livarot was boiling by now. How dare these fools question him, question his abilities, his motivation? He had sworn himself the position of High Chairman. The girl, his experiment, was the key to the door that would grant him his goal. Reaching in his robes he gripped the small weapon he always kept with him. He would not lose to this Martian.

"Arrogant fool! She," he said, pointing to a startled Raye, "was mine long before she came to you. I witnessed her birth, my gold insured her survival. I have invested far too much to simply let her go. You and your pathetic family were the thieves! Loner's are nothing, they belong to no one but the person who created them. She is mine, and no one, least of all some counterfeit relative, is going to stand in my way!" He ended with a shout, pulling his small laser pistol out and firing exactly one shot towards the dark Martian. In his anger he had hardly bothered to aim, but fate must have been in his favor because the shot slammed into it's intended target's chest.

As the white bolt sank into her brothers right chest, time for Raye slowed to a standstill. There was no shock on his features, only confusion as he raised his hand to his chest, feeling for the wound. Locking eyes with her, he stumbled then fell, and she was vaguely aware of her screams as she ran forward to catch him.

He came down hard on top of her, his body limp. She screamed his name but no sound came, as though the pain she felt in her heart knew it could not be translated into words alone. Instead, hot tears streamed down her face, only to be evaporated by the ever increasing heat flowing through her body. They were coming. Her wings were coming. Creed had warned her so many times about controlling them.

She looked down and ran her hand through her brothers dark hair, of which her own was intermingled. Her silvery white strands were stained with his blood. Creed was gone. Closing her eyes, she stopped resisting and gave herself over to the wild flame raging inside. Her wings would come.

She no longer cared.

* * *

Stoker was shouting out to Raye, fighting against Pawnn and Throttle's arms to get to her. His restrainers looked at each other, each aware of the seriousness of the situation. Behind them, Rimfire and the others looked on in horror and awe at the scene unfolding before them. Raye knelt at the center of an ever growing whirlwind of white light, and if he looked hard enough, Rimfire could see Creed, laying on the forest floor, his head cradled in his sisters lap, her pale arms crossed as she leaned over him.

Rimfire tried to reconcile the scene with what he had witnessed in the warehouse, but found himself thinking the last time had been outright tame compared to what was happening here. Raye still had some degree of control the last time, her deep seeded inhibitions holding her back. Those inhibitions had disintegrated when Creed fell. She wasn't holding back anymore, wasn't even trying, and the one person who might have been able to stop her, even at this point, was laying in her arms with a laser bolt in his chest.

Pawnn helped Throttle pull Stoker back to the others. The elder mouse was no longer fighting them, he seemed to realize his efforts were useless. The girl was too far gone, Pawnn had been aware of this from the moment Creed had been shot. The doctor had been right, there was nothing more painful than the loss of one's family, and he didn't blame the child for breaking down. The problem was, when this particular child fell into despair, she was liable to take the city with her.

He watched as the spiraling white light danced in rippling circles around her, expanding by the second. The power being exuded was like a ripping wind that stripped the neighboring trees of their remaining leaves and left the rest of them swaying in an attempt to stay upright. But the true focus of the scene before him was the frighteningly beautiful wings approaching their full form as they unfolded from her back, reducing her shirt to tatters as they grew to more than twice the height of their owner. At the moment they were like skeletons, a latticework of spiraling light and energy. But Pawnn knew they would not remain in that form for long. They had only a small amount of time before they blossomed into full power, and the innocent and fragile child he had grudgingly become fond of was transformed into the weapon she never wanted to be.

He was broken from his thoughts as a tan hand came down heavy on his shoulder. "We have to get out of here." Throttle said, squinting against the light that was becoming too much for his sensitive eyes.

Pawnn nodded his head. "Yes. Her body will ignite soon."

"How bad will it be?" Throttle asked, somehow aware that this Hunter would be able answer his question.

Pawnn shook his head. "I do not fully know. The files I was given were not complete, there were spaces blackened out. But it would be wise to look to the safety of the city."

"Any suggestions as to how?" Throttle asked.

Pawnn thought for a moment. "If we are close enough it might be possible to use my ships' shields to create a barrier that will at least divert the energy around the city instead of through it. But my ship is small, I do not know if it will be enough."

"What if we had two ships?" Rimfire asked, pointing back to the lake. Pawnn's eyes lit in understanding.

"Malady's?" he said slowly. "Yes, this might be enough." He looked back to Raye, whose wings were steadily approaching full formation. Her body was glowing, and beneath her, Creed's dark fur danced with the light spiraling out from her. Pawnn looked over to his ship. If they moved now they could make it before it too was consumed. He turned back to the others. "Hurry to my ship. I will take you to the lake."

Stoker and Rimfire took one last look over to Raye before following the others to Pawnn's ship, driving their cycles inside as Pawnn closed the doors and left the others for the cockpit. Once inside he was startled to see that there was already someone sitting in the pilots chair, a fat and familiar arm fiddling with the controls.

"Pawnn!" Lord Livarot shouted in desperation, turning in the chair and staring up him with panicked eyes. "How in the five hells do you move this thing!?"

Pawnn stared at him impassively. "Lord Livarot." he said quietly.

Livarot turned red, panic morphing into desperate anger. "I know my name you purple idiot! Now get me out of here or I swear I will kill your family this instant!"

Pawnn didn't move, but looked down on the flailing man with contempt. This was the creature he had served for the last four years? This spineless fish who held people's happiness without a shred of concern for it? Pawnn felt sickened. Reaching to his holster he pulled his weapon out, taking aim at the Plutarkians head in one swift movement.

Livarot's expression froze. "Pawnn, you fool!" he stammered. "What do you think you are doing?"

Pawnn regarded him quietly, surprised at how little emotion he felt at the moment. Looking Livarot in the eye he tightened finger on the trigger.

"Something I should have had the courage to do long ago." he answered.

Without further explanation he shot his employer, his pseudo-master, point blank to the head. Livarot crumbled into a heap on the cockpit floor. Silently, Pawnn took one of the Plutarkian arms, leaned over to press the small automatic pilot button to get them in the air, and then drug what was left of Livarot out the door and into the small cargo bay, where five mice and one human looked on in confusion. He marched straight to the door, pulled the switch to open it, and unceremoniously tossed the body out.

He watched silently as Livarot's body fell and then became engulfed by the white light below. He smiled slightly to himself. At the very least Livarot's end was a poetic one.

The next moment he turned to Stoker.

"I have found the key to my cage." he said.

Stoker regarded him with a mixed expression on his face, as though he knew he should disapprove, but couldn't quite bring himself to it. Finally, he nodded.

"Then what are you waiting for? Show me how you fly." he answered.

Pawnn turned for the cockpit and a minute and a half later he hovered over Malady's ship as his newfound allies launched from the cargo bay. All of them landed onto the still floating ship with the exception of Throttle, who had quickly returned to the tree line to fetch the ship's entrapped owner. Pawnn was fairly confident Malady would find escaping from certain death a convincing argument for helping them.

With Rimfire at the helm and Malady making snide remarks from the co-pilots chair, the massive ship rose to join Pawnn's, and together they positioned themselves between the city and Raye's growing circle of fiery light. Had he not known just how deadly it was about to become, Stoker would have taken the time to admire it. In truth, the pulsating light below was beautiful, delicately wrought but strong, a reflection of it's creator to the core. But it could not last as it was. He pressed a hand to the viewing screen.

"It's been fun cutie." he whispered. He turned to Rimfire, who stared at the screen as well, a bleak look overrunning his features. He slapped a hand to the younger mouse's shoulder. Rimfire looked up at him. "Come on kid, Chicago's not gonna save itself."

Rimfire drew himself and nodded, focusing back on the controls, but allowing himself one last look at the white orb below. She didn't deserve this. Neither of them did.

Raye's power had grown to a diameter of at least two hundred meters, and continued to grow with each pulsating heartbeat. Their two ships came as close as they could as their occupants braced against the beating the shields were about to take. And a beating it was. The growing light flailed against the shields violently, licking out in whip-like strands too numerous to count, each exploding upon impact. The ship's shook, and all occupants unfortunate enough not to be strapped down in a chair, mainly Stoker and the guys, were tossed about the cockpit. The shields held. Pushing himself up from under Modo, Throttle looked to the large view screen and frowned. He wasn't sure if this plan of their's was going to work. They were holding now, but if Raye were to become any stronger he had his doubts as to whether they were going to make it.

And if they didn't make it, neither did the city.

* * *

Creed had never felt so warm. It was more than just a temperature, this warmth had a life to it, a pulse that one could easily fall asleep to. Almost against his will though, he fought sleep, and as he slowly drifted into consciousness he found himself wondering if this was what being in his mothers womb might have been like, this feeling of surrounding warmth and safety. So peaceful. So warm. Slowly he opened his eyes.

All thoughts of his mother were promptly banished as he stared up into the disturbingly empty eyes of his sister. She stared without seeing, her body luminous with the energy she was pouring out into the world. His eyes traveled to her back and his heart skipped a beat. Her wings, her beautiful and frightening wings had grown to twice the height she was, stretching out above her like a canopy. These were not the thin appendages that had appeared at her puberty, nor were they the weak things the Plutarkians had managed to harness. These had a life of their own, as though his delicate sister had two warrior angels inside of her that had just now managed to escape into the world. And they wanted vengeance.

He called out her, shouting her name but finding it to be useless. Raye was too far gone for his words. He would not reach her with such a feeble attempt. Slowly and painfully he raised himself to his knees, his torso loudly reminding him of it's injuries. Once upright he paused to wonder at how the grass he knelt on remained untouched. Somehow he had been lucky enough to caught in Raye's vacuum which extended out a few feet in each direction. Had she not caught him as she did he would most likely nothing more than a pile of ash at the moment.

Hugging her fiercely he brought his head to hers, delving into her mind and being caught in the resulting hurricane inside. There was no order, no memories even for him to grasp. She simply wasn't there, the power in her had taken over most of her first level brain functions. Her consciousness must have retreated to the darker recesses of her mind, seeking safety from the chaos. Steeling himself he dove further.

And found himself in strange surroundings.

It was like walking through a dark hall surrounded by mirrors. He was everywhere and no where, there was a seemingly infinite amount of paths, but only one he knew he could truly take. He could have been lost forever had it not been for the faint tugging at the back of his mind. The part of him that had always connected him with Raye was still there, and now he had no choice but to follow it. The line was thin as a spiders thread, hard to see, hard to find, but it was strong. He followed it through the dark. Eventually he heard crying.

_"Raye!"_ he called out. _"Raye, answer me!"_

Silence. Then, _"Your not real. They killed you. Your not real, so go away, please!"_

He went deeper, following the faint line to it's source. There, in a corner, curled up into a small ball was Raye as he had known her at seven, the age their parents had died. She wore what had been her favorite outfit at the time, a long blue tunic with small shorts and boots to match. It had been her birthday present and he remembered threatening to cut it off her at one point, she wore it so much.

She sobbed into her small hands, her body blanketed with her white hair. It had been long even then. He slowly came up to her, placing his hands on her thin shoulders.

_"Raye."_ he said gently. She didn't answer. He cupped her quivering chin in his hand and raised her face to his, her eyes unbelieving. He smiled.

_"Come now, I am really worth such drama?"_ he asked. She stared at him and then nodded her head.

_"They killed you. I don't wanna be out there anymore." _she said with a sniff. He sighed.

_"I'm not dead Raye. Why would I be here if I'm dead?"_ he asked.

_"Mommy and Daddy are here and their dead, so that means your dead too." S_he pointed to the mirrors. In their reflection was the smiling images of his parents, just as they looked before they died. He fought back his own sadness and turned back to his sister.

_"Yes, their gone Raye, but I'm still here. I want you to come back with me. Will you do that for me?"_

She shook her head.

_"It's scary out there, and I'm not big enough yet."_ she said with a whimper.

_"Big enough?"_

_"I'm not big enough to help you. I just get in your way and you have to protect me all the time. I get you hurt 'cause I'm not strong enough."_ she answered.

He took gathered her up in his arms and cradled her like he did on the day they became orphans. She curled up into him and held onto his shirt with balled fists. Gods, he had forgotten just how small she had been.

_"Raye,"_ he said, _"It's never been about you getting in my way, or about you being strong enough. Because the truth is I wouldn't be half as strong as I am today if it hadn't been for you."_ He smoothed back her hair and grinned at her wide golden eyes. _"You made me stronger Raye, and if you don't come back, I'm going to be weaker because your not there to keep me going. Do you understand?"_

_"I...I helped you?"_ she asked timidly.

He smiled. _"You made me."_ he answered as he set her on her feet. _"Now stop crying. You have a job to do and it needs to be done now." _He held out his hand. _"Coming?"_

Raye hesitated but a moment before stepping forward. As she placed her child's hand in his it became larger, the fingers losing their young fat and lengthening out into an adults. Shedding her child's form she became the young woman she was. She looked up with him, tears still shining in her eyes but her mouth spread in a wide grin.

_"Coming."_

* * *

Stoker wasn't sure how much more either of the ships could take. Charley, Throttle, and Modo, along with a furious and frightened Malady had gone down to the engine room in an attempt to give a little more juice to the shields, but Stoker doubted it would be enough. Their opposition was becoming far too strong. Pawnn's ship was being pushed back and had suffered considerable damage already.

This was not the way he imagined checking out of this life. Well, at least people would say he went out in a blaze of glory. Or some sort of a blaze anyway.

Charley appeared in the doorway, grasping the edge as the ship shook from another violent impact. "We've done all we can Stoker. But if she becomes any stronger..."

He shook his head.

"I know. Thanks beautiful." he said, reaching out and squeezing her grease stained hands. She smiled wanly, frightened but determined not to show it. The others came up behind her with grim expressions. From one of the control panels, Vinnie turned and looked them over.

"Where's psycho-bitch?" he asked.

Modo thumbed back to the cargo hold. "She high tailed it on a escape pod when we weren't lookin'." He looked over to Stoker. "Sorry coach."

Stoker shook his head. "Nothing we can do about it now. It's just as well I guess..."

"Coach!" Rimfire shouted. They all turned to Rimfire who was studying the readings in front of him, pointing to one fluctuating bar in excitement. "Look! Don't ask me why but the energy readings outside are dropping, and fast."

They all rushed to his side, staring at the readings that were steadily plummeting.

"Look!" Vinnie shouted, pointing up to the view screen. Outside, the white light was dissipating rapidly, retreating from the ship's and fading into the forest below. Within seconds it had faded completely, leaving them hovering over a decimated swatch of land perhaps three hundred meters in diameter.

"Rimfire." came Pawnn's rumbling voice over the intercom. "I am receiving readings of two life signals below, can you confirm?"

Rimfire's heart leapt to his throat as he double-checked his readings. "Yeah..." he said in unbelief, sinking back into his chair. Stoker looked to the others with a grin and then punched Rimfire on the shoulder.

"Well? Get to it kid, you ain't gonna make us jump are you?"

* * *

At the center of the carnage below, Raye and Creed lay facing each other on their sides, both too spent to do much more than breathe. Creed watched with relief as Raye's eyes regained their former life, resting on him steadily, beautiful and golden. She tried to reach out her hand to him but failed in the attempt halfway.

"Creed..." she whispered.

"What have I told you about overexerting yourself?" he asked slowly.

She smiled. "Digestion?"

He sighed, reached out his hand and drifted into unconsciousness with a small smile of his own. And that was how the others found them, their fingertips barely touching, both fallen into a deep and exhausted sleep. They made an odd picture as they lay in their circle of untouched forest meadow, surrounded by burnt and fallen woodland.

Rimfire gingerly removed his jacket and laid it over Raye, who wore only torn shreds of rags on her torso. Kneeling in the soft mossy grass, Charley felt for the pulses of both and then smiled back up at the others. Stoker let out a half wild laugh and soon everyone was laughing in relief, not only for their friends, but for the sake of the stress of the last few weeks that seemed finally to have come to an end. Finally, Stoker regained control and knelt beside the two next to Charley.

"They have the devils luck, these two." he said, pushing back a long strand of hair back from Raye's face. "What do you say to getting the kiddies home?"

Charley smiled. "I'd say it's way past their bedtime."

Stoker looked up to Throttle and the others and grinned. "You heard the lady boys, load up!"

A few minutes later they were off, heading back to the scoreboard with re-assurance from Pawnn that he would take care of Malady's ship and meet them later with Rimfire's bike, which had survived just out of reach of the carnage in the forest. They took him at his word, his efforts for the city having earned their trust. Holding Raye securely as they traveled through dark city streets, Stoker looked over to Charley, who sat behind Creed, sandwiching him effectively between herself and Modo. She fussed all the while over the two wounds in Creed's torso, muttering to herself the astonishment of the shots missing vital organs.

He couldn't seem to keep himself from grinning as he looked down at the sleeping young woman cradled in his arms. He had given up hope of her coming out of this alive, yet her she was, a little worse for wear, but breathing, and with a hint of a smile on her lips t'boot. The scoreboard towered above them as they rounded the next corner and the aged Freedom fighter looked from Creed to Raye and back up to the sky where a faint red star gleamed in the distance.

"Looks like your coming home after all cutie." he said quietly. "I promise, I'll get you there if I have to tie Creed up myself."

He could have sworn he heard her laugh softly.


	13. Chapter 13

_Disclaimer: I do not, nor have I ever owned the Biker Mice from Mars. My last disclaimer...sniff..._

_Well, this took me long enough didn't it? Sorry! But this is it folks, the final chapter, the end of the story. I can't believe I made it to the end. It was fun! Not sure if I'm going to post another story or not. Lot's of idea's are swimming through my head though._

_Special thanks to:** Silverphyrbyrd: **You've stuck with me throughout this whole thing, THANK YOU! And now I can see your artwork. I'm so excited! **Rynorean:** Thank you for your reviews and your encouragement. You are appriciated! **Whipblade:** your reviews and your enthusiasm are always great to see. Thank you! **Imcristiel, Riana1, Tycholetric, 999999999: **THANK YOU!_

_**Mad-Eyed Owl:** I'm just going to say a simple thank you here. Your the best._

_And now ladies and gentlemen...the final act._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

Pawnn stepped nimbly onto the shifting sands of his home world with an expression of tired relief. He took nothing from the ship but what he wore, leaving the now lifeless spaceship to gather as much dust as it possibly could in the large cave it had been hidden in. He had no desire to see it, or to feel the memories carried again.

As he tread over the golden dunes, tracing a familiar path to the home he had so longed for, he took a deep breathe of the cooling night air. It was over. This was home. He kept telling himself this, but as of yet it had failed to truly take root in his mind. Perhaps it was because the events in Chicago were still disturbingly fresh in his mind. He had stayed only long enough to tie up the loose ends, mainly returning Rimfire's bike as promised. The files Livarot had sent him regarding Raye were handed over to their rightful owner as well. Incomplete though they were, Creed and Raye had still taken them with a certain sense of awe and a gratitude he was certain he did not deserve.

In fact, the degree of acceptance shown to him by the Martian's had unnerved him greatly and their appreciation for his help in shielding Chicago had bothered him even more. After making a quick and false report regarding the death of "the experiment" to the Plutarkian high council even Creed had warmed to him, expressing his thanks by gesture of a single sincere handshake.

Pawnn was as sure as he could be regarding Raye's continued safety from the Plutarkian council. Malady could report no more than Pawnn had, since she had left Earth just as it seemed Raye was destined for self-destruction. Pawnn had no doubt she would waste no more of her time on this mission. Most likely she was currently in the process of bartering for another ship. Or stealing one. Either way, she was out of the picture, something for which the tall Sakian was extremely grateful.

And still...

...and still he felt as though his repentance had just begun. Only he had not a clue how to repay the heavens for his crimes. The god's were cruel in their lack of guidance.

Slowly he mounted the next dune and stood watching the quiet valley beyond it. Below, the lights of a familiar red clay house flickered and the animals in the pen yowled into the night. A thick brown door slowly opened and two tall teenagers peeked curious heads out towards the east. Their eyes searched the darkness hopefully and after a moment they were rewarded for their patience. Pawnn sighed and began his descent as the two ran yelling into the darkness in their bare feet, heedless as always of the danger of sand stingers hiding in the dunes.

"Father!" they cried just before launching themselves into him. He barely had time to brace himself against their teenage enthusiasm, but somehow he managed to stay upright. Hugging them to him tightly he ignored their multiple questions in favor of holding the sparkling silver eyes of the the woman slowly approaching from the house.

His children had sense enough to silence themselves as their parents watched each other intensely. After a few moments of studying his wife, Pawnn lifted a hand to her face, running a thumb across the strong line of her jaw.

"Jemini." he whispered. Looking up at him, her eyes begged the question she knew she dare not ask in front of their innocent children. Giving her a nearly imperceptible nod, he smiled softly. She closed her eyes as they became heavy with tears and choked back a sob of relief. Composing herself quickly she looked at him with such a look of love and gratefulness he swore then and there that he would carry out the rest of repentance by ensuring the happiness of this small family he called his own. Surely the god's could think of nothing better than this.

She took his face in her hands and placed a lingering and promising kiss on his lips as their children made disgusted noises from the arms of their father. She smiled up at him.

"Welcome home."

* * *

Rimfire ran a gloved hand over his face in a futile attempt to revive eyes long deprived of proper amounts of sleep. By Earth time, more specifically Chicago time, it was the ungodly hour otherwise known as three in the morning. It was a period of the day he normally didn't see even in the Freedom Fighters strict ritual of awakening at sunrise. Taking one more deep yawn, he glanced over at Creed, who was on his 647th lap around the general living area behind the cockpit, head bent, intent upon the files Carbine had sent him a few days earlier.

"Hey." Rimfire said as he stretched his arms over his head. "If your going to be up, why not let a hard working guy catch a few hours sleep?"

Creed didn't look up from his computer as he spoke, nor did his steps alter their rhythm. "I'm busy." he said distractedly.

"It's your ship." Rimfire answered, trying an old argument.

"And you should be properly honored I trust you with its care. Now, allow me to work, if you would." Creed shot back.

Rimfire let out an exaggerated long suffering sigh and turned back to the controls albeit with a small smirk. Mars didn't know what it had coming.

Once it had been confirmed Creed had reluctantly agreed to come to Mars, the General, in her typical direct and headlong fashion, had very nearly buried the young doctor with information regarding the current health care system, or lack thereof. Stoker worried Carbine was pushing too hard and too fast, especially considering Creed's previous reluctance to return to his red home world, but once again he had surprised them, plowing almost obsessively into the files. Rimfire half expected a detailed plan for a complete overhaul of the medical community to be slapped into General Carbine's hand before she even finished welcoming the new doctor to Mars.

Raye stepped into the room with a large tray of steaming mugs and snack food, surveying her pacing brother and the snoring Stoker on the far couch before giving Rimfire first dibs on the tray.

"Is he picking on you again?" she asked conspiratorially as he snatched a mug and a generous handful of food. Rimfire grinned.

"In a way. Either that or he just gave me a backhanded compliment, it's hard to tell."

"Probably both." she determined before going over to Creed and standing directly in his path.

"Eat." she ordered.

He barely missed running into her as he looked up from his files and into her stubborn eyes. "Not hungry." he murmured, stepping around her and continuing on his way. For the past two days en route to Mars, Raye had nearly succeeded in her goal to keep him perpetually fed. Now in familiar culinary territory, she had taken to preparing all of his favorite foods, perhaps as a sort of unneeded apology for what had happened to him on Earth. At any rate, he had already gained more weight than his doctor's mind was comfortable with, and contrary to popular belief, having a stomach consistently bordering on overflowing was not entirely pleasant.

Raye kept insisting he needed the extra energy. From what he had been able to glean from Carbine's reports, she would need the energy just as much as him, perhaps more. They had a long uphill battle ahead of them.

Deep in his own world he nearly collided with her again as she stopped once more in the path he had settled on in front of the wide windows looking out into space. He let out an annoyed sigh.

"Raye, for the last time, I'm not..."

"Look."

The word was spoken with such awe that he finally managed to pull himself from the files he had become engrossed in and followed her gaze out into the night. Coming ever closer was the red planet he had tried to forget for most of his life. Raye, on the other hand, was hypnotized by the sight, and Stoker, waking from his long nap, watched her from the couch with an expression of amusement and nostalgia, like a parent seeing a holiday through the fresh eyes of their young children.

Coming up behind his mesmerized sister, he watched as Rimfire silently put them into orbit and the view from the wide window was filled with the red rusty glow of the planet below. He placed a steading hand on her slightly trembling shoulder.

"Mars." he said matter-of-factly.

Her reflection in the window smiled. "Home" she said.

He studied the red sands below with an air of uncertainty.

"Home..."

_Reviews most welcome :)_


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